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BARTON*™* 

A STORY  OF  THE  'RED  CROSS* 


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CLARA  BARTON 

From  a photograph  taken  in  St.  Petersburg  in  July,  1902, 
showing  the  decorations  conferred  upon  her  by  the 
Czar  and  the  Empress  Dowager 


A STORY  OF  THE 
RED  CROSS 


GLIMPSES  OF  FIELD  WORK 


BY 

CLARA  BARTON 

FOUNDER  OF  THE  AMERICAN  NATIONAL  RED  CROSS 
AND  PRESIDENT,  1 8 8 1-1  904 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

1917 


Copyright,  1904,  by 
D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


A STORY  OF  THE 
RED  CROSS 


I 


* 


3 b \ 

l^n 


PREFACE 


Since  the  foundation  of  the  Red  Cross  in 
America,  many  direful  calamities  have  afflicted  the 
country.  In  each  of  these  visitations  the  Red 
Cross  has  acted  in  some  degree  as  the  Almoner — 
the  distributer  and  organizer — of  the  bountiful 
< measures  of  relief  that  have  been  poured  out  by 
the  American  people. 

Its  work  has  been  accomplished  quietly  and 
without  ostentation.  All  the  relief  has  been  ad- 
ministered not  as  charity — but  as  God-sent  suc- 
cor to  our  brothers  and  sisters  who  have  been  over- 
whelmed by  some  mighty  convulsion  of  the  forces 
of  nature. 

The  wreckage  has  been  cleared  away,  the  stricken 
people  have  been  wisely,  tenderly,  and  calmly 
guided  out  of  panic  and  despair  on  to  the  road  of 
self-help  and  cooperative  effort  to  restore  their 
shattered  homes  and  broken  fortunes ; and  then  the 
Red  Cross  has  retired  as  quietly  as  it  came,  and 


v 


PREFACE 


few,  outside  of  the  people  immediately  concerned, 
have  realized  the  beneficent  powers  of  help  and 
healing  that  have  fallen  like  a benediction  upon 
the  stricken  wherever  that  sacred  symbol  of  human- 
ity has  made  its  way. 

It  is  my  thought  that  a brief  account  of  the 
work  of  the  Red  Cross  during  the  past  twenty- 
five  years  will  be  of  interest  to  the  American  peo- 
ple. In  a volume  of  this  size  it  must  of  necessity 
be  but  a brief  outline,  sufficient,  however,  to  con- 
vey a clear  impression  of  what  the  Red  Cross 
really  means  to  every  individual  in  this  great  coun- 
try of  ours. 

To  the  thousands  of  American  men  and  women 
whose  generous  bounty  has  made  the  work  of  the 
Red  Cross  possible,  to  the  stricken  and  distressed 
who  because  of  it  have  been  helped  back  to  life  and 
hope,  and  to  all  the  friends  of  the  great,  universal 
humanity  which  it  typifies,  this  small  book  is  lov- 
ingly dedicated. 

Clara  Barton. 

Glen  Echo,  Maryland, 

May  15y  1904. 


vi 


CONTENTS 


i 

PAGE 

Early  History.  1880-1884  0 . . • . 1 


II 

The  Texas  Famine  and  the  Mount  Vernon 
Cyclone.  1885-1888  80 


III 

Yellow  Fever  in  Florida.  1887  e . , 38 

IV 

The  Johnstown  Flood.  1889  . . - • 54 

V 

The  Russian  Famine.  1891  . . . • « 70 

VI 

The  Sea  Island  Relief.  1893  . 0 8 . 77 

vii 


CONTENTS 


VII 

PAGE 

Armenian  Relief.  1896  94 

VIII 

Cuba.  1898  e 115 


IX 

Galveston.  1900  • . , * . « e 164 


vui 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED 
CROSS 


i 

EARLY  HISTORY 
1880-1884 

“I  have  lived  much  that  I have  not  written,  but  I have 
written  nothing  that  I have  not  lived.” 

It  was  a little  blue-eyed  girl  of  ten  who  sat  on 
a low  hassock  at  my  feet,  slowly  drawing  the  soft 
auburn  curls  between  her  fingers,  when,  suddenly 
lifting  her  head  and  looking  me  earnestly  in  the 
face,  she  exclaimed : “ What  is  the  Red  Cross? 
Please  tell  me  about  it ; I can  not  understand  it.” 

There  was  a pleading  earnestness  in  the  tone 
not  to  be  resisted,  and  laying  down  my  pen  I com- 
menced to  explain  to  her  the  principles,  history, 
and  uses  of  the  Red  Cross.  She  listened  anxiously, 
the  pretty  brow  knitted ; she  seemed  more  and  more 
perplexed,  until,  as  if  a light  had  broken  over  her, 
she  exclaimed,  half  impatiently : 

1 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


“ Not  that — not  that,  tell  me  something  it  does 
— it  and  you,  I can  understand  it  better  then.” 

A light  had  broken  over  me.  It  was  a story  the 
child  wanted  to  illustrate  the  principle  and  bring 
it  home  to  her.  A story  she  must  have. 

In  a half  hour  she  felt  that  she  knew  it  all  and 
was  an  ardent  devotee  even  of  its  principles.  But 
she  had  given  me  more  than  I had  given  her.  Here 
was  food  for  thought. 

For  twenty-five  years  I had  labored  to  explain 
the  principles  and  uses  of  the  Red  Cross ; had  writ- 
ten enough  for  a modest  library  of  what  it  was 
and  what  it  meant,  but,  lest  I seem  egotistical,  not 
a page  of  what  it  did.  The  child  had  given  me 
an  idea  that  I would  for  once  put  into  practice,  and 
write  a few  pages  of  what  the  Red  Cross  had  done, 
leaving  principles  to  present  themselves. 

I will  commence  even  back  of  itself. 

Forty  years  ago,  before  most  of  you  were  born, 
a great  war  had  been  fought  in  America,  in  which 
thousands  died  from  battle  and  hardship,  and 
thousands  more  still  left  alive  were  worn  out  in  the 
untried  and  unsystematized  efforts  at  relief  that 
had  been  made  through  nearly  five  years  of  con- 

2 


EARLY  HISTORY 


tinuous  war.  Of  these  latter,  many  were  women 
who  dragged  out  weary  lives  in  their  own  homes, 
some  went  to  hospitals  and  retreats  for  rest  and 
care,  and  some  were  sent  abroad.  One  of  these 
latter  I knew  personally,  for,  as  Patrick  would 
say,  “ It  was  me-self.” 

To  me  it  seemed  a hard  sentence  that  our  physi- 
cians imposed.  I had  grown  to  love  the  country 
we  had  so  toiled  for,  and  did  not  want  to  leave  it. 
Its  very  woes  had  made  it  dear  to  me.  It  had 
quiet  once  more,  and  a peace  that  was  not  all  a 
peace.  It  had  its  early  soldier  homes,  its  fast-fill- 
ing cemeteries,  and  the  tender  memory  of  a mar- 
tyred President  resting  over  us  like  a pall.  These 
had  come  to  seem  like  a heritage  to  me,  and  in  my 
weakness  I clung  to  them.  Still,  the  order  was 
obeyed  and  I went. 

Then  followed  travels  in  strange  and  foreign 
lands,  other  wars,  illness  and  suffering  of  my  own, 
until  eleven  years  later  I came  almost  a stranger 
again  to  our  Government  with  another  work,  which 
I believed  to  be  for  its  good  and  the  good  of  our 
people. 

This  time  I brought  the  idea  of  the  treaty  of 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


Geneva,  asking  our  Government,  at  the  request  of 
other  Governments,  to  examine  and  to  unite  with 
it,  if  found  desirable.  This  effort  with  the  Gov- 
ernment covers  five  years  of  hard,  continuous 
labor,  during  which  was  sought  the  aid  of  friends 
known  in  other  years.  At  the  end  of  this  time,  by 
advice  of  our  second  martyred  President  and  three 
members  of  his  historic  cabinet — James  G.  Blaine, 
William  Windom,  and  Robert  T.  Lincoln — a 
national  society  was  formed,  known  as  the  Associa- 
tion of  the  American  Red  Cross,  and,  by  desire 
and  nomination  of  President  Garfield,  I was  made 
its  president,  and  requested  to  name  my  officers. 

The  association  was  formed  during  the  winter 
of  1880-’81,  with  the  view  on  the  part  of  Presi- 
dent Garfield  of  facilitating  the  adoption  of  the 
treaty  which  he  would  name  in  his  next  message, 
which  message  was  never  written. 

Before  the  message,  he,  too,  had  joined  the  mar- 
tyred ranks,  and  his  gentle  successor,  Arthur,  filled 
his  chair  and  kept  his  promise,  and  through  action 
of  his  own  executive  department  the  treaty  was 
.adopted;  indorsed  by  action  of  the  Senate;  pro- 
claimed by  the  President  to  our  people ; later  rati- 

4 


EARLY  HISTORY 


fied  by  the  International  Powers  in  the  Congress  of 
Berne,  with  the  pledge  to  render  relief  to  unfortu- 
nate victims  of  war,  and  the  privilege,  by  my 
request,  of  rendering  similar  relief  to  the  victims 
of  great  national  calamities  or  disasters. 

All  this  had  been  accomplished  by  the  kindly 
help  of  a few  personal  friends,  tireless  and  unre- 
warded, and  while  the  news  of  the  accession  of  the 
Government  of  the  United  States,  to  the  treaty  of 
Geneva,  lit  bonfires  that  night  (for  I cabled  it  by 
their  request)  in  the  streets  of  Switzerland,  France, 
Germany,  and  Spain,  a little  four-line  paragraph 
in  the  congressional  doings  of  the  day  in  the  Even- 
big  Star , of  Washington,  alone  announced  to  the 
people  of  America  that  an  international  treaty  had 
been  added  to  their  rolls. 

No  personal  distinction  had  been  bestowed,  no 
one  honored,  no  one  politically  advanced,  no  money 
of  the  Government  expended,  and,  like  other  things 
of  like  nature  and  history,  it  was  left  in  obscurity 
to  make  its  own  way  and  live  its  own  hard  life. 

Thus  the  spring  of  1882  found  us — a few  peo- 
ple, tired  and  weak,  with  five  years  of  costly  serv- 
ice, a treaty  gained,  with  no  fund,  no  war  nor 

5 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


prospect  of  any,  and  no  helpful  connection  with 
or  acknowledgment  by  the  Government. 

Soon  the  news  of  “ Half  the  State  of  Michigan 
on  Fire”  called  us  to  action  on  our  own  laws  of 
civil  relief.  A little  draft  on  the  purse  of  the 
new,  inexperienced  president  of  the  association 
paved  the  way  for  an  agent  to  go  to  the  field. 
Others  generously  joined,  all  reported  to  our 
friend  and  advocate,  Senator  Omar  D.  Conger,  of 
Michigan.  Some  supplies  were  sent,  a society  or 
two  formed  to  provide  and  forward  them.  The 
agents  remained  until  the  suffering  was  relieved, 
and  thus  the  first  field  relief  work  of  which  we 
have  any  record  in  the  United  States  was  com- 
menced. 

Meanwhile,  I had  been  asked  by  the  Senate  to 
write  the  history  of  the  Red  Cross,  and  show  the 
official  action  taken  by  our  Government  on  the 
acceptance  of  the  treaty,  which  history  the  Senate 
would  have  printed  at  the  Government  printing- 
office,  This  volume  I prepared  as  requested.  A 
thousand  copies  were  printed  for  information  to 
the  public,  to  be  circulated  by  the  society ; but  with 
no  frank  or  other  means  provided,  and  with  a 
6 


EARLY  HISTORY 


postage  of  some  ten  cents  a volume,  we  were  com- 
pelled to  limit  the  circulation  to  the  means. 

The  following  year,  1883,  a disastrous  rise  in 
the  Ohio  River  called  for  our  aid.  Dr.  J.  B.  Hub- 
bell,  who  had  been  our  agent  the  year  before,  was 
called  from  Michigan  University,  where  he  was 
completing  a course,  to  examine  the  needs  of  the 
inhabitants  and  take  such  relief  as  we  could  pro- 
vide. There  was  little  loss  of  life,  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  property  lay  largely  in  the  loss  of  stock, 
and  washing  away  of  the  soil,  vegetation,  and  the 
means  of  reproduction. 

A remarkable  provision  for  this  latter  loss  was 
made  by  the  gift  of  Mr.  Hiram  Sibley,  the  noted 
seed  dealer  of  Rochester — who  had  become  asso- 
ciated with  the  Red  Cross,  being  an  old-time  friend 
of  the  family  of  its  president — of  ten  thousand 
dollars’  worth  of  seed,  to  replant  the  washed-out 
lands  adown  the  Mississippi.  As  the  waters  ran 
off  the  mud  immediately  baked  in  the  sunshine, 
making  planting  impossible  after  a few  days. 
Accordingly,  Mr.  Sibley’s  gift  was  sent  with  all 
haste  to  our  agent  at  Memphis,  and  in  forty-eight 
hours,  by  train  and  boat,  it  was  distributed  in  the 

7 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


four  States — Tennessee,  Arkansas,  Louisiana,  and 
Mississippi — and  planted  for  the  crops  of  the 
coming  season. 

Besides  this  generous  gift  of  material,  a little 
money  had  been  raised  and  sent  by  the  three  soci- 
eties of  the  Red  Cross  which  had  been  formed,  viz. : 
Dansville  and  Syracuse,  a few  hundreds — some- 
thing more  from  the  Red  Cross  at  Rochester — • 
always  thoughtful  and  generous,  which  served  to 
help  in  the  distribution  of  clothing  and  supplies 
promiscuously  sent.  And  at  the  finish  of  the 
work,  when  every  donation  had  been  carefully 
acknowledged,  one  thousand  dollars  and  some  cents 
were  left  in  the  treasury  unexpended. 

A cyclone  occurring  within  a few  months  in 
Louisiana  and  southern  Alabama,  cutting  a swath 
from  New  Orleans  to  Mobile,  decided  us  to  send 
eight  hundred  dollars  of  this  reserve  to  the  secre- 
tary of  the  Red  Cross  Society  of  New  Orleans, 
which  sum  was  forwarded  by  our  vice-president, 
Mr.  A.  S.  Solomons.  This  left  a sum  of  two  hun- 
dred dollars  and  some  cents  in  the  treasury  with 
which  to  commence  another  field. 

This  was  the  commencement  of  1883.  In  May, 
8 


EARLY  HISTORY 


at  the  solicitation  of  General  Butler,  then  Governor 
of  Massachusetts,  I took  the  superintendence  of 
the  Massachusetts  Woman’s  State  Prison  at  Sher- 
born,  at  the  customary  salary  of  fifteen  hundred 
dollars  a year.  To  this  duty  the  Legislature 
added,  after  my  arrival,  those  of  secretary  and 
treasurer,  without  increase  of  salary,  discharging 
the  former  incumbent,  a man,  at  three  thousand 
dollars  a year.  I accepted  the  new  duties,  became 
my  own  bondsman  for  ten  thousand  dollars,  by 
transfer  of  that  amount  of  bonds  from  my  bank- 
ers, Brown  Brothers,  New  York,  to  the  Massachu- 
setts State  Treasury  at  Boston — remaining  in 
charge  of  the  prison  until  the  close  of  the  year,  and 
the  retirement  of  General  Butler  as  Governor. 

In  the  short  and  interrupted  existence  of  our 
association— scarce  two  years — our  few  official  ad- 
visers had  formed  some  general  regulations,  re- 
lating to  our  course  of  procedure.  Realizing  that 
to  be  of  any  real  service  as  a body  of  relief  for 
sudden  disasters,  we  must  not  only  be  independent 
of  the  slow,  ordinary  methods  of  soliciting  relief, 
but  in  its  means  of  application  as  well,  it  was 
decided : 


2 


9 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


First . To  never  solicit  relief  or  ask  for  contri- 
butions. 

Second . Not  to  pay  salaries  to  officers — paying 
out  money  only  to  those  whom  we  must  employ  for 
manual  labor — and  as  our  officers  served  without 
compensation  they  should  not  be  taxed  for  dues. 

Third . To  keep  ourselves  always  in  possession 
of  a stated  sum  of  money  to  commence  a field  of 
disaster — this  sum  to  be  independent  even  of  the 
closed  doors  of  a bank  which  might  prevent  leaving 
for  a field  on  a Sunday  or  holiday. 

Fourth . To  take  this  sum  of  our  own,  going 
directly  to  a field  with  such  help  as  needed,  giving 
no  notice  until  there,  overlooking  the  field,  and 
learning  the  extent  of  the  trouble  and  conditions 
of  the  people,  making  immediate  and  reliable  re- 
port to  the  country  through  the  Associated  Press, 
some  of  whose  officers  were  our  own  Red  Cross 
officers  as  well.  These  reports  would  be  truthful, 
unexaggerated,  and  non-sensational  statements 
that  could  be  relied  upon. 

Fifth.  That  if,  under  these  conditions,  the  peo- 
ple chose  to  make  use  of  us  as  distributers  of  the 
relief  which  they  desired  to  contribute  to  the  suf- 
10 


EARLY  HISTORY 


ferers,  we  would  do  our  best  to  serve  them  while 
at  the  field — make  report  directly  to  each  and 
all  contributors,  so  far  as  in  our  power,  and  pro- 
ceed to  carry  out  any  directions  and  apply  the 
relief  at  hand,  in  the  wisest  manner  possible,  among 
a dazed  and  afflicted  community. 

To  inaugurate  this  method,  I,  as  president, 
placed  a sum  of  three  thousand  dollars,  free  of 
bank  or  interest,  upon  momentary  call,  at  the 
service  of  the  association.  On  more  than  one 
occasion  it  has  been  taken  on  Sunday,  when  every 
bank  in  the  country  was  closed  and  charitable 
bodies  were  at  their  prayers.  Even  the  relief  of 
Johnstown  was  thu*  commenced.  This  provision 
has  never  for  a day  been  broken.  It  is  as  good  at 
this  moment  as  it  was  in  1883,  and  from  the  same 
source.  It  may  not  have  been  a 66  business-like  ” 
method  nor  one  to  be  approved  by  stated  boards 
of  directors  nor  squared  by  bank  regulations.  But 
the  foes  we  had  to  meet  were  not  thus  regulated, 
and  had  to  be  met  as  they  came;  and  so  they 
always  must  be  if  any  good  is  to  be  accomplished. 

Until  the  Government  and  society  can  control 
the  elements,  and  regulate  a spring  freshet,  a 
11 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


whirlwind  or  a cyclone,  they  will  find  that  red  tape 
is  not  strong  enough  to  hold  their  ravages  in  check. 

It  was  well  that  these  regulations  had  been  for- 
mulated and  their  provisions  acted  upon,  as  the 
state  of  our  treasury  and  the  conditions  immedi- 
ately following  will  show. 

I returned  to  Washington  upon  my  retirement 
from  the  superintendence  of  the  State  Prison  at 
Sherborn,  accompanied  by  Dr.  Hubbell,  who,  hav- 
ing completed  his  university  course,  had  come  to 
the  Red  Cross  for  permanent  service.  Before  we 
had  even  time  to  unpack  our  trunks,  the  news  of 
the  fearful  rise  of  the  Ohio  River,  of  1884,  began 
to  shock  the  country  with  its  loss  of  life  and  prop- 
erty. 

I had  never  been  present  at  a disaster  in  civil 
life.  It  had  never  occurred  to  me  that  they  re- 
curred so  frequently.  But  if  by  virtue  of  my 
office  as  president  I was  liable  to  be  called  every 
year  to  preside  over  and  provide  for  them,  it  was 
essential  that  I learn  my  duties  experimentally.  I 
accordingly  joined  Dr.  Hubbell,  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed general  field  agent,  and  proceeded  to  Pitts- 
burg, the  headwaters  of  the  rise. 

12 


EARLY  HISTORY 


Telegraphing  from  there  to  our  agents  of  the 
Associated  Press,  we  proceeded  to  Cincinnati,  to 
find  the  city  afloat.  Its  inhabitants  were  being 
fed  from  boats,  through  the  second-story  windows. 
These  conditions  were  telegraphed.  Supplies 
commenced  to  flow  in,  not  only  from  our  own  soci- 
eties but  from  the  people  of  the  country.  Ware- 
houses were  filled,  in  spite  of  all  we  dispensed — but 
there  were  four  hundred  miles  of  this  distress — 
even  to  Cairo,  where  the  Ohio,  sometimes  thirty 
miles  in  width,  discharged  its  swollen  waters  into 
the  Mississippi. 

Recognizing  this  condition  lower  down  the  river 
as  the  greater  need,  we  transferred  our  supplies 
and  distribution  to  Evansville,  Ind.  Scarcely  had 
we  reached  there  when  a cyclone  struck  the  river 
below,  and  traveling  up  its  entire  length,  leveled 
every  standing  object  upon  its  banks,  swept  the 
houses  along  like  cockle-shells,  uprooted  the 
greatest  trees  and  whirled  them  down  its  mighty 
current — catching  here  and  there  its  human 
victims,  or  leaving  them  with  life  only,  houseless, 
homeless,  wringing  their  hands  on  a frozen,  fire- 
less shore — with  every  coal-pit  filled  with  water, 
13 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


and  death  from  freezing  more  imminent  than  from 
hunger. 

There  were  four  hundred  miles  more  of  this,  and 
no  way  of  reaching  them  by  land.  With  all  our 
tons  of  clothing,  these  people  and  their  homeless 
little  children  were  freezing.  There  was  but  one 
way — the  Government  boats  had  come  with  rations 
of  food — we  too  must  take  to  the  water. 

At  eight  o’clock  in  the  morning  I chartered  my 
first  boat,  with  captain  and  crew,  at  sixty  dollars 
per  day,  to  be  at  once  laden  to  the  water’s  edge 
with  coal — our  own  supplies  to  be  stored  on  the 
upper  deck — and  at  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon, 
as  the  murky  sun  was  hiding  its  clouded  face,  the 
bell  of  the  “ John  V.  Troop,”  in  charge  of  her 
owner,  announced  the  departure  of  the  first  Red 
Cross  relief-boat  ever  seen  on  American  waters. 

I found  myself  that  night  with  a stanch  crew 
of  thirty  men  and  a skilled  captain,  and  a boat 
under  my  command.  I had  never  until  then  held 
such  a command.  We  wove  the  river  diagonally 
from  side  to  side — from  village  to  village — where 
the  homeless,  shivering  people  wTere  gathered — 
called  for  the  most  responsible  person — a clergy- 
14 


EARLY  HISTORY 


man  if  one  could  be  found,  threw  off  boxes  of  cloth- 
ing, and  hove  off  coal  for  a two  weeks’  supply,  and 
steamed  away  to  the  opposite  side,  leaving  only 
gratitude,  wonder  at  who  we  were,  where  we  came 
from,  and  what  that  strange  flag  meant?  We 
improved  every  opportunity  to  replenish  our  sup- 
ply of  coal,  and  reached  Cairo  in  five  days. 

Waiting  only  to  reload,  we  returned  up  the 
river,  resupplied  the  revived  villages  of  people,  too 
grateful  for  words,  reaching  Evansville  at  the  end 
of  three  weeks,  where  more  supplies  than  we  had 
taken  awaited  us.  St.  Louis  and  Chicago  had 
caught  the  fever  of  relief,  had  arranged  societies, 
and  had  asked  permission  to  join  our  aid.  Up  to 
this  time  the  Mississippi  had  given  no  indication 
of  trouble,  but  now  its  great  June  rise  commenced. 

The  Government  boats,  by  another  appropria- 
tion, were  sent  to  the  Mississippi,  and  we  prepared 
to  supplement  them.  Discharging  our  Ohio 
River  boat  we  went  to  St.  Louis  by  rail  and  char- 
tered the  66  Mattie  Bell.”  The  Red  Cross  Societies 
of  St.  Louis  and  Chicago,  under  their  respective 
presidents  and  officers  in  charge  of  them  and  their 
funds,  joined  us,  and  together  we  prepared  to  feed 
15 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


and  rescue  the  perishing  stock — as  well  as  people 
adown  the  Mississippi.  The  animals  had  never 
been  saved  in  an  overflow ; and  besides  the  cruelty 
of  letting  them  starve  by  thousands,  the  loss  to  the 
people  was  irreparable,  as  the  following  year 
must  inevitably  be  replete  with  idleness  and  poverty 
till  more  stock  could  be  obtained  to  work  with. 

We  found  as  commissary  at  St.  Louis,  General 
Beckwith,  the  historic  commissary-general  of  the 
old  civil  war,  who  had  personally  superintended 
the  loading  of  my  wagons  in  Washington,  year 
after  year,  for  the  battle-fields  of  Virginia.  He 
came  on  board  the  66  Mattie  Bell  ” and  personally 
superintended  the  lading — clothing,  corn,  oats, 
salt,  and  hay — besides  putting  upon  the  Govern- 
ment boats  large  quantities  of  supplies  which  we 
could  not  take  on  at  first,  and  giving  us  his  bless- 
ing, watched  us  steam  out  on  our  joint  mission; 
they  putting  off  rations  of  meat  and  meal — we 
supplementing  with  clothing  for  the  people  and 
feed  for  the  stock.  We  purchased  all  we  could  at 
cities  as  we  passed,  picked  our  course  among  the 
broken  levees  and  roaring  crevasses,  all  the  way  to 
New  Orleans.  The  hungry  were  fed,  the  naked 
16 


EARLY  HISTORY 


clothed,  and  the  stock  saved.  The  negro  had  his 
mule,  and  the  planter  his  horses  and  cattle  to  carry 
on  his  work  when  the  flood  should  disappear.  We 
had  lighter  boats,  still  lighter  purses,  but  lightest 
of  all  were  the  grateful  hearts  that  a kind  Provi- 
dence and  a generous  people  had  given  to  us  the 
privilege  of  serving. 

We  discharged  the  “ Mattie  Bell  ” at  St.  Louis, 
bidding  adieu  to  the  officers  of  the  Red  Cross  So- 
ciety, who  had  rendered  most  acceptable  service  to 
the  cause.  They  had  brought  their  own  funds  and 
material — had  personally  administered  them  from 
the  decks  of  the  “ Mattie  Bell,”  made  their  own  re- 
ports, and  modestly  retired  to  their  home  duties, 
there  to  await  the  next  call. 

Chicago,  which  had  a new  Red  Cross  Society, 
formed  almost  for  the  occasion,  through  its  most 
worthy  and  notable  representative,  Rev.  E.  I. 
Galvin,  did  the  same,  performing  the  long  journey 
with  us,  superintending  the  distribution  of  his  own 
relief  and  making  his  own  report  with  such  con- 
vincing power,  that  societies  of  no  less  excellence 
than  the  Lend-a-Hand  were  its  outgrowth. 

I am  thus  particular  to  mention  this  from  the 

17 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


loving  gratitude  fervently  cherished  for  strong, 
tender  help  in  the  day  of  small  things.  Their  con- 
tributions largely  served  to  run  our  boat  and  keep 
our  crew,  and  with  heads,  hearts,  and  hands  we 
struggled  as  one,  to  avert  the  destruction  so  rife 
around  us. 

From  St.  Louis  we  crossed  over  to  Evansville, 
rechartered  the  “ John  V.  Troop,”  and  put  on  ac- 
cumulated supplies.  The  waters  of  the  Ohio  had 
subsided  and  the  people  were  returning  to  the  old 
spots  of  earth  that  once  had  been  their  home,  but 
there  was  neither  house  to  live  in  nor  tool  to  work 
the  land  with.  We  reloaded  with  pine  lumber, 
ready-made  doors,  windows,  household  utensils, 
stores  and  groceries,  farming  utensils,  and  with  a 
good  force  of  carpenters  proceeded  up  the  Ohio 
once  more.  The  sight  of  the  disconsolate,  half- 
clad  farmer  waiting  on  the  bank  told  us  where  his 
home  had  been — and  was  not. 

Three  hours’  work  of  our  carpenters  would  put 
up  a one-room  house,  meanwhile  our  efficient  men 
and  women  helpers,  among  them  the  best  ladies 
of  Evansville,  would  furnish  it  with  beds,  bed- 
ding, clothing,  provisions  for  the  family,  and 
18 


EARLY  HISTORY 


farming  tools  ready  to  go  on  with  the  season’s 
work. 

Picture,  if  possible,  this  scene.  A strange  ship 
with  a strange  flag  steaming  up  the  river.  It  halts, 
turns  from  its  course,  and  draws  up  to  the  nearest 
landing.  Some  persons  disembark  and  speak  a 
few  minutes  with  the  family.  Then,  a half  dozen 
strong  mechanics  man  a small  boat  laden  with  all 
material  for  constructing  a one-room  house — floor, 
roof,  doors,  windows.  The  boat  returns  for  furni- 
ture. Within  three  hours  the  strange  ship  sails 
away,  leaving  a bewildered  family  in  a new  and 
clean  house  with  bed,  bedding,  clothing,  table, 
chairs,  dishes,  candles,  a little  cooking-stove  with 
a blazing  fire,  all  the  common  quota  of  cooking 
utensils,  and  meat,  meal,  and  groceries ; a plow, 
rake,  axe,  hoe,  shovel,  spade,  hammer,  and  nails. 
We  ask  few  questions.  They  ask  none.  The 
whistle  of  the  “ Troop  ” is  as  welcome  to  their  ears 
as  the  flag  to  their  eyes. 

At  one  of  these  wrecked  villages  the  entire  little 
hamlet  of  people  stood  on  our  decks.  Only  four, 
they  said,  were  left  at  home,  and  these  were  sick. 
They  had  selected  their  lawyer  to  speak  their 

19 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


thanks.  No  words  will  ever  do  justice  to  the 
volume  of  native  eloquence  which  seemed  to  roll 
unbidden  from  his  lips.  He  finished  with  these 
sentences : 

“ At  noon  on  that  day  we  were  in  the  blackness 
of  despair — the  whole  village  in  the  power  of  the 
demon  of  waters — hemmed  in  by  sleet  and  ice, 
without  fire  enough  to  cook  its  little  food.  When 
the  bell  struck  nine  that  night,  there  were  seventy- 
five  families  on  their  knees  before  their  blazing 
grates,  thanking  God  for  fire  and  lights  and  pray- 
ing blessings  on  the  phantom  ship  with  the  un- 
known device  that  had  come  as  silently  as  the  snow, 
they  knew  not  whence,  and  gone,  they  knew  not 
whither.” 

When  we  finished  the  voyage  of  relief,  we  had 
covered  the  Ohio  River  from  Cincinnati  to  Cairo 
and  back  twice,  and  the  Mississippi  from  St.  Louis 
to  New  Orleans,  and  return — four  months  on  the 
rivers — traveled  over  eight  thousand  miles,  dis- 
tributed in  relief  of  money  and  estimated  material, 
one  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  dollars — 
gathered  as  we  used  it. 

We  left  at  one  point  on  the  Ohio  River  a well- 

20 


EARLY  HISTORY 


lettered  cross-board,  “ Little  Six  Red  Cross  Land- 
ing ” — probably  there  to  this  day.  The  story  of 
The  Little  Six  might  be  given  in  their  own  little 
letter : 

Waterford,  Pa.,  March  24,  1884. 
Dear  Miss  Barton  : 

We  read  your  nice  letter  in  the  Dispatch  and 
we  would  like  very  much  to  see  that  house  called 
“ The  Little  Six,”  and  we  little  six  are  so  glad 
that  we  helped  six  other  little  children,  and  we 
thank  you  for  going  to  so  much  trouble  in  putting 
our  money  just  where  we  would  have  put  it  our- 
selves. Some  time  again  when  you  want  money 
to  help  you  in  your  good  work  call  on  66  The  Little 
Six.” 

Joe  Farrar,  twelve  years  old. 

Florence  Howe,  eleven  years  old. 

Mary  Barton,  eleven  years  old. 

Reed  White,  eleven  years  old. 

Bertie  Ainsworth,  ten  years  old. 

Loyd  Barton,  seven  years  old. 

These  children  had  given  a public  entertainment 
for  the  benefit  of  the  flood  sufferers.  They  them- 
selves suggested  it,  planned  and  earned  it  out,  and 
21 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


raised  fifty-one  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents,  which 
they  sent  to  the  editor  of  the  Erie  Dispatch,  asking 
him  to  send  it  66  where  it  would  do  the  most  good.” 
The  Dispatch  forwarded  it  to  the  president  of  the 
Red  Cross,  with  an  account  of  the  entertainment 
given  by  66  The  Little  Six.” 

The  entire  matter  was  too  beautiful  and  withal 
unique,  to  meet  only  a common  fate  in  its  results. 
I could  not,  for  a moment,  think  to  mingle  the  gift 
of  the  little  dramatists  with  the  common  fund  for 
general  distribution,  and  sought  through  all  these 
weeks  for  a fitting  disposition  to  make  of  it,  where 
it  would  all  go  in  some  special  manner  to  relieve 
some  special  necessity.  I wanted  it  to  benefit  some 
children  who  had  “ wept  on  the  banks  ” of  the 
river,  which  in  its  madness  had  devoured  their 
home. 

As  we  neared  that  picturesque  spot  on  the  Illi- 
nois side  of  the  Ohio,  known  as  66  Cave-in  Rock,” 
we  were  hailed  by  a woman  and  her  young  daugh- 
ter. The  boat  “ rounded  to  ” and  made  the  land- 
ing and  they  came  on  board — a tall,  thin,  worn 
woman  in  tattered  clothes,  with  a good  but  inex- 
pressibly sad  face,  who  wished  to  tell  us  that  a 


EARLY  HISTORY 


package  which  we  had  left  for  her  at  the  town  on 
our  way  down  had  never  reached  her.  She  was  a 
widow — Mrs.  Plew — whose  husband,  a good  river 
pilot,  had  died  from  overwork  on  a hard  trip  to 
New  Orleans  in  the  floods  of  the  Mississippi  two 
years  before,  leaving  her  with  six  children  de- 
pendent upon  her,  the  eldest  a lad  in  his  “ teens,” 
the  youngest  a little  baby  girl.  They  owned  their 
home,  just  on  the  brink  of  the  river,  a little  “ farm  ” 
of  two  or  three  acres,  two  horses,  three  cows,  thirty 
hogs,  and  a half  hundred  fowls,  and  in  spite  of 
the  bereavement,  they  had  gone  on  bravely,  win- 
ning the  esteem  and  commendation  of  all  who  knew 
them  for  thrift  and  honest  endeavor.  Last  year 
the  floods  came  heavily  upon  them,  driving  them 
from  their  home,  and  the  two  horses  were  lost. 
Next  the  cholera  came  among  the  hogs  and  all  but 
three  died.  Still  they  worked  on ; and  held  the 
home.  This  spring  came  the  third  flood.  The 
water  climbed  up  the  bank,  crept  in  at  the  door, 
and  filled  the  lower  story  of  the  house.  They  had 
nowhere  to  remove  their  household  goods,  and 
stored  them  in  the  garret  carefully  packed,  and 
went  out  to  find  a shelter  in  an  old  log  house  near 
25 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


by,  used  for  a corn-crib.  Day  by  day  they 
watched  the  house,  hailed  passing  boats  for  news 
of  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  water  above,  always 
trusting  the  house  would  stand — 66  and  it  would,’5 
the  mother  said,  66  for  it  was  a good,  strong  house, 
but  for  the  storm.”  The  winds  came,  and  the  ter- 
rible gale  that  swept  the  valley  like  a tornado,  with 
the  water  at  its  height,  leveling  whole  towns, 
descended  and  beat  upon  that  house,  and  it  fell. 
In  the  morning  there  was  no  house  there, 
and  the  waves  in  their  fury  rushed  madly  on.  Then 
these  little  children  66  stood  and  wept  on  the  banks 
of  the  river,”  and  the  desolation  and  fear  in  the 
careful  mother’s  heart,  none  but  herself  and  her 
God  can  know. 

They  lived  on  in  the  corn-crib,  and  it  was  from 
it  they  came  to  hail  us  as  we  passed  to-day.  Some- 
thing had  been  told  us  of  them  on  our  downward 
trip,  and  a package  had  been  left  them  at  “ Cave- 
in  Rock,”  which  they  had  not  received.  We  went 
over  shoe-tops  in  mud  to  their  rude  home,  to  find 
it  one  room  of  logs,  an  old  stone  chimney,  with  a 
cheerful  fire  of  drift-wood  and  a clean  hearth,  two 
wrecks  of  beds,  a table,  and  two  chairs  which  some 
24  . 


EARLY  HISTORY 


kind  neighbor  had  loaned.  The  Government  boats 
had  left  them  rations.  There  was  an  air  of  thrift, 
even  in  their  desolation,  a plank  walk  was  laid 
about  the  door,  the  floor  was  cleanly  swept,  and 
the  twenty-five  surviving  hens,  for  an  equal  number 
were  lost  in  the  storm,  clucked  and  craiked  com- 
fortably about  the  door,  and  there  were  two-and-a- 
half  dozen  fresh  eggs  to  sell  us  at  a higher  rate 
than  paid  in  town.  We  stood,  as  we  had  done  so 
many  scores  of  times  during  the  last  few  weeks, 
and  looked  this  pitiful  scene  in  the  face.  There 
were  misfortune,  poverty,  sorrow,  want,  loneliness, 
dread  of  the  future,  but  fortitude,  courage,  in- 
tegrity, and  honest  thrift. 

“ Would  she  like  to  return  to  the  childhood  home 
in  Indiana?  ” we  asked  the  mother,  for  we  would 
help  them  go. 

“ No,”  she  said  tenderly.  “ My  husband  lived 
and  died  here.  He  is  buried  here,  and  I would  not 
like  to  go  away  and  leave  him  alone.  It  won’t  be 
very  long,  and  it  is  a comfort  to  the  children  to  be 
able  to  visit  his  grave.  No,  I reckon  we  will  stay 
here,  and  out  of  the  wreck  of  the  old  house  which 
sticks  up  out  of  the  mud,  we  will  put  up  another 
3 25 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


little  hut,  higher  up  on  the  bank  out  of  the  way 
of  the  floods,  and  if  it  is  only  a hut,  it  will  be  a 
home  for  us  and  we  will  get  into  it,  and  make  our 
crop  this  year.” 

There  were  no  dry  eyes,  but  very  still  hearts, 
while  we  listened  to  this  sorrowful  but  brave  little 
speech,  made  with  a voice  full  of  tears. 

Our  thoughtful  field  agent,  Dr.  Hubbell,  was  the 
first  to  speak. 

“ Here  are  six  children,”  he  said  with  an  inquir- 
ing glance  at  me. 

No  response  was  needed.  The  thing  was  done. 
We  told  the  mother  the  story  of  “ The  Little  Six  ” 
of  Waterford,  and  asked  her  if  that  money  with 
enough  more  to  make  up  one  hundred  dollars  would 
help  her  to  get  up  her  house?  It  was  her  turn  to 
be  speechless.  At  length  with  a struggling,  chok- 
ing voice  she  managed  to  say — “God  knows  how 
much  it  would  be  to  me.  Yes,  with  my  good  boys 
I can  do  it,  and  do  it  well.” 

We  put  in  her  hands  a check  for  this  sum,  and 
directed  from  the  boat  clean  boxes  of  clothing  and 
bedding,  to  help  restore  the  household,  when  the 
house  should  have  been  completed. 

Before  we  left  her,  we  asked  if  she  would  name 

26 


EARLY  HISTORY 


her  house  when  it  should  be  done?  She  thought  a 
second,  and  caught  the  idea. 

“ Yes,”  she  replied  quickly,  with  a really  win- 
some smile  on  that  worn  and  weary  face,  “ yes,  I 
shall  name  it  ‘ The  Little  Six.’  ” 

We  came  to  Pittsburg,  discharged  our  empty 
boat,  bade  a heart-breaking  good-by  to  our  veteran 
volunteers  from  Evansville,  who  had  shared  our  toil 
and  pain  and  who  would  return  on  the  boat,  we  tak- 
ing train  once  more  for  Washington.  We  had 
been  four  months  on  the  rivers,  among  fogs,  rain, 
damp,  and  malaria — run  all  manner  of  risks  and 
dangers,  but  had  lost  no  life  nor  property,  sunk  no 
boat,  and  only  that  I was  by  this  time  too  weak 
to  walk  without  help — all  were  well. 

Through  the  thoughtfulness  of  our  new  socie- 
ties— St.  Louis  and  Chicago — we  had  been  able  to 
meet  our  share  of  the  expenses,  and  to  keep  good 
the  little  personal  provision  we  started  with,  and 
were  thus  ready  to  commence  another  field  when  it 
should  come. 

On  arriving  home  I found  that  I was  notified  by 
the  International  Committee  of  Geneva,  that  the 
Fourth  International  Conference  would  be  held  in 
that  city  in  September,  and  I was  requested  to  in- 
27 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


farm  the  United  States  Government,  and  ask  it  to 
send  delegates.  With  the  aid  of  a borrowed  arm,  I 
made  my  way  up  the  steps  of  the  Department  of 
State  (that  was  before  the  luxury  of  elevators)  and 
made  my  errand  known  to  Secretary  Frelinghuy- 
sen,  who  had  heard  of  it  and  was  ready  with  his 
reply : 

“ Yes,  Miss  Barton,  we  will  make  the  needful 
appointment  of  delegates  to  the  International 
Conference,  and  I appoint  you  as  our  delegate.” 

“ No,  Mr.  Frelinghuysen,”  I said,  “I  can  not  go. 
I have  just  returned  from  field  work.  I am  tired 
and  ill.  Furthermore,  I have  not  had  time  to  make 
a report  of  our  work.” 

66  There  is  no  one  else  who  sufficiently  under- 
stands the  Red  Cross,  and  the  provisions  of  the 
treaty,  that  our  Government  can  send,  and  we  can 
not  afford  to  make  a mistake  in  the  matter  of  dele- 
gates to  this  first  conference  in  which  our  Govern- 
ment shall  participate,”  answered  the  Secretary. 
“ As  to  the  report,  have  you  not  acknowledged  the 
contributions  to  all  those  who  have  sent  ? ” 

“ Oh,  yes ; every  dollar  and  every  box  of  goods 
where  the  donor  was  known,”  I replied. 

28 


EARLY  HISTORY 


“ Has  any  one  complained?  ” he  asked. 

“No;  not  a single  person  so  far  as  is  known. 
We  have  had  only  thanks.” 

“ Then  to  whom  would  you  report?  ” 

“ To  you,  Mr.  Secretary,  or  to  such  person  or 
in  such  manner  as  you  shall  designate.” 

“ I don’t  want  any  report ; no  report  is  neces- 
sary,” answered  the  Secretary.  “ Our  Government 
relief-boats  have  reported  you  officially,  and  all 
the  country  knows  what  you  have  done  and  is  more 
than  satisfied.  Regarding  your  illness — you  have 
had  too  much  fresh  water,  Miss  Barton,  I recom- 
mend salt — and  shall  appoint  you.” 

This  was  done,  and  the  appropriation  for  ex- 
penses was  made,  and  at  my  request  Judge  Joseph 
Sheldon,  and  by  invitation  Mr.  A.  S.  Solomon,  our 
vice-president,  were  also  appointed  to  accompany 
me.  The  appropriation  sufficed  for  all. 

The  conference  was  held  at  Geneva,  September 
17,  1884,  and  thus  was  had  the  first  official  repre- 
sentation of  the  United  States  Government  at  an 
International  Conference  of  the  Treaty  of  Geneva. 
There  have  since  been  five.  I have  attended  all 
but  one. 


29 


II 


THE  TEXAS  FAMINE  AND  THE  MT.  VERNON  CYCLONE 

Before  the  close  of  the  following  year,  1885, 
came  what  was  known  as  the  “ Texas  Famine.” 
Thousands  of  miles  of  wild  land,  forming  the  Pan 
Handle,  had  been  suddenly  opened  by  the  build- 
ing of  a Southern  Railroad.  In  the  speculative 
anxiety  of  the  Road  to  people  its  newly  acquired 
territory,  unwarranted  inducements  of  climatic 
advantages  had  been  unscrupulously  held  out  to 
the  poor  farmers  of  Mississippi,  Alabama,  and 
Georgia. 

Lured  by  the  pictures  presented  them,  some 
thousands  of  families  had  been  induced  to  leave 
their  old,  worn-out  farms,  and  with  the  little  they 
could  carry  or  drive,  reach  the  new  Eldorado,  to 
find  a new  farm  that  needed  only  the  planting  to 
make  them  rich,  prosperous,  and  happy,  without 
labor.  They  planted.  The  first  year  brought 
some  returns — the  second  was  a drought  with  no 
returns — the  third  the  same.  Hunger  for  them- 
30 


THE  TEXAS  FAMINE 


selves  and  starvation  for  their  stock  stared  them 
in  the  face.  They  could  not  pick  up  and  go  back 
— the  rivers  were  dry  from  the  Rio  Grande  to  the 
Brazos — the  earth  was  iron,  and  the  heavens  brass ; 
cattle  wandered  at  will  for  water  and  feed,  and 
their  bones  whitened  the  plains. 

These  were  poor  little  peoples.  They  tried  to 
make  the  great  State  know  of  their  distress,  but 
the  rich  railroad  proprietors  held  the  press , and  no 
one  knew  their  condition  or  could  get  correct  in- 
formation. At  length  a faithful  clergyman  came 
to  Washington,  to  President  Cleveland,  and  the 
Red  Cross. 

We  consulted  with  the  President,  who  gave  en- 
couragement for  us  to  go  to  Texas  and  learn  the 
facts. 

In  mid-winter,  1886,  accompanied  by  Dr.  Hub- 
bell,  the  journey  was  undertaken.  We  proceeded 
to  Albany,  Texas,  made  headquarters — traveled 
over  the  stricken  counties,  found  wretchedness, 
hunger,  thirst,  cold,  heart-breaking  discourage- 
ment. The  third  year  of  drought  was  upon  them, 
and  the  good  people  of  that  great  State,  misled 
by  its  press,  its  press  in  turn  misled  by  the  specu- 
31 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


lators,  innocently  discredited  every  report  of  dis- 
tress, and  amused  themselves  by  little  sly  innuendoes 
and  witty  jokes  on  the  “ Texas  Famine.” 

The  condition  was  pitiful.  To  them  it  was  hope- 
less. And  yet  not  a dollar  or  a pound  was  needed 
outside  of  Texas.  They  only  required  to  know  the 
truth.  This  then  was  our  task.  We  ceased  to 
journey  over  arid  fields  of  suffering,  and  turned 
our  steps  resolutely  to  the  editorial  rooms  of  the 
Dallas  and  Galveston  News,  at  Dallas.  Both  edi- 
tors were  present;  both  sat  half-breathless  while 
the  flood  of  information  rolled  over  them  in  no  un- 
certain terms. 

I shall  never  forget  the  tears  in  the  mild  blue 
eyes  of  General  Belo,  as  he  learned  what  he 
had  done,  and  was  still  doing.  Twelve  hours 
brought  another  issue  of  the  two  papers.  A 
column  of  editorial  told  the  true  situation.  A 
modest  contribution  of  the  Red  Cross  headed  a sub- 
scription list,  General  Belo  following  with  his,  and 
almost  immediately  the  legislature  made  an  appro- 
priation of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  for  food 
and  supplies. 

The  tender-hearted  and  conscience-smitten  peo- 
32 


THE  TEXAS  FAMINE 


pie  sent  their  donations.  Our  task  was  done.  We 
had  seen  and  conquered. 

In  the  midst  of  a cold  rain  in  February  we 
reached  Washington.  A concise  and  full  report 
was  made  to  President  Cleveland,  saying  in  con- 
clusion : “ I thank  you  with  all  my  heart,  Mr. 
President,  for  the  encouragement  at  the  commence- 
ment, and  for  the  privilege  of  writing  you.  We 
have  done  this  little  bit  of  work  faithfully  and  hope 
it  may  meet  your  approval.” 

President  Cleveland’s  letter  of  thanks  still  bears 
testimony  of  his  care  for  the  people  of  the  country, 
and  his  faith  in  its  institutions. 

Not  a dollar  of  outside  help  passed  through  our 
hands,  but  the  little  permanent  provision  was  equal 
to  the  occasion  and  we  had  still  a half  left  of  our 
three  thousand  dollars.  That  was  our  first  ac- 
quaintance with  Texas.  Galveston  followed  many 
years  later  with  the  same  firm  accord  and  good 
results.  The  bonds  of  affection  had  grown  deep 
and  strong  between  the  great  thousand-mile  State 
and  the  little  Red  Cross  that  loved  to  serve  her. 

In  the  following  year,  1887,  we  were  notified  by 
the  International  Committee  of  Geneva  of  the  con- 
33 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


ference  to  be  held  at  Carlsruhe,  by  invitation  of 
the  Grand  Duke  and  Grand  Duchess  of  Baden. 
We  were  directed  to  inform  the  Department  of 
State  of  this  fact.  We  did  so,  and  an  appropria- 
tion was  made  by  Congress  to  defray  the  expenses 
of  three  delegates. 

It  may  be  well  to  explain  that  in  these  appoint- 
ments the  Government  does  not  place  the  appro- 
priation in  the  hands  of  the  appointees,  but  simply 
becomes  a guaranty.  The  appointee  provides  his 
own  funds.  If,  after  return,  vouchers  can  be 
shown  that  the  sum  guaranteed  has  been  spent  ac- 
cording to  regulations,  he  is  reimbursed  in  due 
course. 

Here  was  at  least  a contrast  from  a rough  Mis- 
sissippi River  boat  and  the  crude  homes  of  an  un- 
settled Western  State,  to  the  royal  carriage  wait- 
ing to  convey  one  to  the  apartments  reserved  in  a 
palace,  the  elegance  and  culture  of  a court,  the 
precision  of  a congress  of  representatives  of  the 
nations  of  the  world.  The  questions  of  humanity 
discussed  by  them,  the  meeting  of  friends  of  other 
days,  the  regal  bearing  of  the  royal  host  and 
hostess,  the  last  parting  from  the  dear  old  Em- 
34 


THE  TEXAS  FAMINE 


peror  of  ninety-two,  and  his  tenderly  spoken,  66  It 
is  the  last  time,  good-by  ” ; the  loving  and  last 
farewell  of  the  beloved  Empress  Augusta,  the  pa- 
tron saint  of  the  Red  Cross ; Bismarck  and  Moltke, 
in  review,  each  with  his  Red  Cross  insignia ; the 
cordial  hand  grasp  and  the  farewell  never  re- 
peated— and  all  of  this  attention  to  and  interest  in 
a subject  that  the  country  I had  gone  to  represent 
scarcely  realized  had  an  existence  beyond  the 
receiving  of  some  second-hand  clothing,  misfit 
shoes,  and  a little  money  sent  by  some  one  to  some 
place,  where  something  bad  had  happened. 

No  one  dreamed  that  it  meant  anything  more, 
or  that  it  needed  anything  after  this,  and  nothing 
more  was  done. 

It  is  only  now,  after  almost  two  decades  and 
within  the  last  three  months,  that  we  commence  to 
awaken  and  wonder,  with  a mingled  national  and 
personal  sense  of  indignation,  why  our  American 
Red  Cross  is  not  as  rich  and  great  as  in  other 
nations  ? 

In  February,  1888,  occurred  the  Mt.  Vernon, 
111.,  cyclone,  cutting  a broad  swath  through  one- 
half  of  the  beautiful  county-seat,  tearing  down  all 
35 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


heavy  buildings,  picking  up  the  lighter  ones  and 
sweeping  them  along  like  cardboard. 

In  three  minutes  the  work  of  destruction  was 
over.  Ten  minutes  later  the  sun  shone  out  brightly 
over  the  ruins  of  the  town,  the  wails  of  the  maimed 
and  dying,  and  the  lifeless  bodies  of  the  dead. 

Fires  broke  out  on  every  hand,  and  the  victims 
pinned  down  under  the  wreckage  were  subjects  for 
the  flames.  Appeals  for  assistance  went  out,  but 
by  unfortunate  press  representation  failed  to 
arouse  the  public,  till  after  several  days,  when  we 
were  reached,  through  their  representative  in  Con- 
gress, begging  that  in  mercy  we  go  to  them.  We 
arrived  in  the  night,  found  homes  destroyed,  hos- 
pitals full,  scant  medical  care,  few  nurses,  food 
scarce  and  no  money,  a relief  committee  of  excellent 
men,  but  little  to  distribute. 

At  daylight  we  looked  over  the  situation  and 
sent  this  simple  message  to  the  Associated  Press : 

“ The  pitiless  snow  is  falling  on  the  heads  of 
three  thousand  people,  who  are  without  homes, 
without  food  or  clothing,  and  without  money. 

“ American  National  Red  Cross, 

“ Clara  Barton,  President.” 

36 


THE  TEXAS  FAMINE 


This  was  all.  We  assisted  their  relief  committee 
to  arrange  for  the  receipt  and  distribution  of 
funds,  sent  for  experienced  helpers  to  take  charge 
of  supplies,  to  distribute  clothing,  and  aid  the 
hospital  service.  We  remained  two  weeks,  and  left 
them  with  more  supplies  than  they  knew  how  to 
distribute,  and  the  Citizens’  Committee,  with  ac- 
cumulating cash  in  its*  treasury  of  ninety  thousand 
dollars,  full  of  hope,  life,  and  a gratitude  they 
could  not  speak. 

As  in  the  Texas  famine,  we  paid  our  own  ex- 
penses and  no  dollar  but  our  own  had  passed  our 
hands.  We  were  only  glad  to  do  this,  in  the  hope 
that  we  were  building  up  an  institution  of  self-help 
of  the  people,  that  would  one  day  win  its  way  to 
their  favor  and  aid. 


37 


Ill 


/ Vi 

t 

YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 

During  the  same  year  the  yellow  fever  broke 
out  in  Jacksonville,  Fla.,  and  was  declared  epidemic 
in  September. 

An  arrangement  had  been  made  between  the 
National  Association  and  the  Auxiliary  Society  of 
the  Red  Cross  of  New  Orleans,  which  society  em- 
braced the  famous  old  “ Howard  Association,” 
that,  in  case  of  an  outbreak  of  yellow  fever,  they 
would  send  their  immune  nurses  from  the  South, 
and  we  of  the  North  would  supply  the  money  to 
support  and  pay  them. 

This  arrangement  was  carried  out  so  far  as 
could  be,  under  the  very  natural  differences  of  a 
medical  department  of  active,  professional  men, 
taking  up  the  treatment  of  an  epidemic  of  which 
they  knew  very  little  experimentally,  but  filled 
with  the  enthusiasm  of  science  and  hope,  and  the 
unprofessional,  fearless,  easy-going  gait  of  the  old 
Southern  nurses,  white  and  black,  whose  whole  lives 
had  been  spent  in  just  that  work. 

38 


YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 


The  Red  Cross  sent  no  Northern  nurses.  But 
eighteen  or  twenty  66  Howard  nurses,”  mainly 
colored,  went  out  from  New  Orleans  under  charge 
of  Col.  Fred.  F.  Southmayd,  their  leader  of 
twenty  years  in  epidemics.  A part  of  his  nurses 
were  stationed  at  Macclenny,  and  a part  went  on 
to  Jacksonville.  Under  medical  direction  of  their 
noted  “ yellow  fever  doctor  ” — a tall  Norwegian — 
Dr.  Gill,  they  did  their  faithful  work  and  won  their 
meed  of  grateful  praise. 

Our  place  was  in  Washington,  to  receive,  deal 
carefully  with,  and  hold  back  the  tide  of  offered 
service  from  the  hundreds  of  enthusiastic,  excited 
untrained  volunteers,  rushing  on  to  danger  and 
death.  Their  fearless  ignorance  was  a pitiful  les- 
son. In  all  the  hundreds  there  was  scarcely  one 
who  had  ever  seen  a case  of  yellow  fever,  but  all 
were  sure  they  were  proof  against  it.  Only  three 
passed  us,  and  two  of  these  had  the  fever  in  Jack- 
sonville. 

When  the  scourge  was  ended  we  met  our  nurses 
personally  at  Camp  Perry,  paid  and  sent  them 
back  to  New  Orleans.  All  that  are  living  are  at 
our  service  still,  faithful  and  true. 

39 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


During  the  fourth  week  in  November  a dispatch 
to  national  headquarters  announced  that  the  last 
band  of  Red  Cross  nurses,  known  as  the  “ Mac- 
clenny  Nurses,”  had  finished  their  work  at  Enter- 
prise, and  would  come  into  Camp  Perry  to  wait 
their  ten  days’  quarantine  and  go  home  to  New 
Orleans  for  Thanksgiving. 

That  would  mean  that  seventy-nine  days  ago 
their  little  company  of  eighteen,  mainly  women, 
steaming  on  to  Jacksonville,  under  guidance  of 
their  old-time  trusted  leader,  Southmayd,  of  New 
Orleans,  listened  to  his  announcement  that  the  town 
of  Macclenny,  thirty-eight  miles  from  Jackson- 
ville, Fla.,  and  through  which  they  would  soon  pass, 
was  in  a fearful  state  of  distress;  a comparatively 
new  town,  of  a few  thousand,  largely  Northern  and 
Western  people,  suddenly  stricken  down  in  scores; 
poor,  helpless,  physicians  all  ill,  and  no  nurses; 
quarantined  on  all  sides,  no  food,  medicine,  nor 
comforts  for  sick  or  well. 

“ Nurses,  shall  I leave  a part  of  you  there;  the 
train  can  not  stop  in,  nor  near  the  town,  but  if  I 
can  manage  to  get  it  slowed  up  somewhere,  will 
you  jump?  99 


40 


YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 


“ We  will  do  anything  you  say,  colonel ; we  are 
here  in  God’s  name  and  service  to  help  His  people ; 
for  Him,  for  you,  and  for  the  Red  Cross,  we  will 
do  our  best  and  our  all.” 

“ Conductor,  you  had  a hot  box  a few  miles  back ; 
don’t  you  think  it  should  be  looked  to  after  passing 
Macclenny  ? ” 

“ I will  slow  up  and  have  it  seen  to,  colonel,  al- 
though it  may  cost  me  my  official  head.”  And  it 
did. 

One  mile  beyond  town,  the  rain  pouring  in  tor- 
rents, the  ground  soaked,  slippery,  and  caving, 
out  into  pitchy  darkness,  leaped  three  men  and 
seven  women  from  a puffing,  unsteady  train,  no 
physician  with  them,  and  no  instructions  save  the 
charge  of  their  leader  as  the  last  leap  was  made, 
and  the  train  pushed  on:  “ Nurses,  you  know  what 
to  do;  go  and  do  your  best,  and  God  help  you.” 
Hand  to  hand,  that  none  go  astray  in  the  dark- 
ness, they  hobbled  back  over  a mile  of  slippery 
cross-ties  to  the  stricken  town.  Shelter  was  found, 
the  wet  clothes  dried,  and  at  midnight  the  sick  had 
been  parceled  out,  each  nurse  had  his  or  her  quota 
of  patients,  and  were  in  for  the  issue,  be  it  life  or 
4 41 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


death.  Those  past  all  help  must  be  seen  through, 
and  lost,  all  that  could  be  must  be  saved.  The  next 
day  a dispatch  from  Southmayd  went  back  to  New 
Orleans  for  Dr.  Gill  to  come  and  take  charge  of  the 
sick  and  the  nurses  at  Macclenny.  It  was  done, 
and  under  his  wise  direction  they  found  again  a 
leader.  Their  labors  and  successes  are  matters  for 
later  and  more  extended  record. 

It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  these  nurses  found 
no  general  table,  no  table  at  all  but  such  as  they 
could  provide,  find  the  food  for,  and  cook  for 
themselves,  for  the  sick,  the  children,  and  the  old 
and  helpless  who  had  escaped  the  fever  and  must 
be  cared  for.  No  patient  could  be  left  till  the  crisis 
was  passed,  and  many  are  their  records  of  seventy- 
two  hours  without  change  or  sleep  or  scarcely  sit- 
ting down.  As  the  disease  gradually  succumbed 
to  their  watchful  care,  experience,  and  skill,  they 
reached  out  to  other  freshly  attacked  towns  and 
hamlets.  Sanderson  and  Glen  St.  Mary’s  became 
their  charge,  and  return  their  blessings  for  lives 
preserved. 

On  November  1st  it  was  thought  they  could 
safely  leave  and  go  into  camp  for  quarantine;  but 
43 


YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 


no  regular  train  would  be  permitted  to  take  them. 
The  Red  Cross  secured  and  paid  a special  train  for 
them,  and,  as  if  in  bold  relief  against  the  manner 
of  their  entry  seven  weeks  before,  the  entire  town, 
saving  its  invalids,  was  assembled  at  the  station  at 
seven  o’clock  in  the  morning  to  bid  them  good-by 
and  God  speed. 

But  their  fame  had  gone  before  them,  and  66  En- 
terprise,” a hundred  miles  below,  just  stricken 
down  among  its  flowers  and  fruits,  reached  out  its 
hands  for  aid,  and  with  one  accord,  after  two  days 
in  camp,  all  turned  back  from  the  coveted  home 
and  needed  rest  and  added  another  month  of  toil 
to  their  already  weary  record.  At  length  this  was 
ended,  and  word  came  again  to  us  that  they  would 
go  into  quarantine.  Their  unselfish,  faithful,  and 
successful  record  demanded  something  more  than 
the  mere  sending  of  money.  It  deserved  the  thanks 
of  the  Red  Cross  organization  in  the  best  and  high- 
est manner  in  which  they  could  be  bestowed ; it  was 
decided  that  its  President,  in  person,  should  most 
fittingly  do  this,  and  I accordingly  left  Wash- 
ington on  the  morning  of  November  22d  in  com- 
pany with  Dr.  Hubbell,  field  agent,  for  Camp 
43 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


Perry,  the  quarantine  station  of  Florida.  Two 
days  and  one  night  by  rail,  a few  miles  across 
country  by  wagon,  where  trains  were  forbidden  to 
stop,  and  another  mile  or  so  over  the  trestles  of 
St.  Mary’s  on  a dirt  car  with  the  workmen,  brought 
us  into  camp  as  the  evening  fires  were  lighted  and 
the  bugle  sounded  supper.  The  genial  surgeon  in 
charge,  Dr.  Hutton,  who  carried  a knapsack  and 
musket  in  an  Illinois  regiment  in  ’62,  met  us 
cordially  and  extended  every  possible  hospitality. 
Soon  there  filed  past  us  to  supper  the  tall  doctor 
and  his  little  flock;  some  light  and  fair-skinned, 
with  the  easy  step  of  a well-bred  lady,  others  dark 
and  bony-handed,  but  the  strong,  kind  faces  below 
the  turbans  told  at  a glance  that  you  could  trust 
your  life  there  and  find  it  again.  They  were  not 
disturbed  that  night,  and  no  certain  information 
of  our  arrival  got  among  them.  It  was  cold  and 
windy,  and  the  evening  short,  as  nine  o’clock 
brought  taps  and  lights  out.  In  spite  of  all  cau- 
tion  the  news  of  our  coming  had  spread  over  the 
surrounding  country,  and  telegrams  bringing  both 
thanks  for  what  had  been  received  and  the  needs 
for  more,  came  from  all  sides,  and  the  good  Mayor 
44 


YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 


of  Macclenny  made  his  troubled  way  to  reach  and 
greet  us  in  person,  and  take  again  the  faithful 
hands  that  had  served  and  saved  his  people. 

Surgeon  Hutton’s  headquarter  tent  was  politely 
tendered  for  the  first  meeting,  and  as  one  could 
never,  while  memory  lasts,  forget  this  scene,  so  no 
words  can  ever  adequately  describe  it.  The  ample 
tent  was  filled.  Here  on  the  right  the  Mayor,  broad 
shouldered,  kind  faced  and  efficient,  officers  of 
camp,  and  many  visitors,  wondering  what  it  all 
meant;  in  the  center  the  tall  doctor  and  his  faith- 
ful band — Eliza  Lanier,  Lena  Seymour  (mother 
and  daughter),  Elizabeth  Eastman,  Harriet 
Schmidt,  Lizzie  Louis,  Rebecca  Vidal,  Annie 
Evans,  Arthur  Duteil,  Frederick  Wilson,  and  Ed- 
ward Holyland. 

I give  these  names  because  they  are  worthy  a 
place  in  the  history  of  any  epidemic ; but  no  coun- 
try, race,  nor  creed  could  claim  them  as  a body: 
four  Americans,  one  German,  one  French,  one 
Irish,  three  Africans,  part  Protestant,  and  part 
Catholic,  but  all  from  New  Orleans,  of  grand  old 
Howard  stock,  from  Memphis  down,  nursing  in 
every  epidemic  from  the  bayous  of  the  Mississippi 
45 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


to  Tampa  Bay;  and  hereafter  we  will  know  them 
as  the  “ Old  Guard  ” 

Here,  in  the  winds  of  approaching  winter  they 
stand  in  the  light  garb  of  early  September  in  New 
Orleans,  thin,  worn,  longing  for  home,  but  patient, 
grateful,  and  glad,  some  trifling  “ nubia  ” or 
turban  about  the  head,  but  only  one  distinguishing 
feature  in  common.  A pitiful  little  misshapen  Red 
Cross,  made  by  their  own  hands,  of  two  bits  of 
scarlet  ribbon,  soiled,  fringed,  and  tattered,  pinned 
closely  upon  the  left  breast  of  each,  strove  in  mute 
appeal  to  say  who  they  were,  and  what  they  served. 
A friendly  recognition  and  some  words  of  thanks 
from  their  President,  opened  the  way  for  those 
anxious  to  follow.  The  rich,  warm  eloquence  of 
Mayor  Watkins  plainly  told  from  how  near  his 
heart  the  stream  of  gratitude  was  flowing,  and  his 
manly  voice  trembled  as  he  reverted  to  the  condi- 
tion of  his  stricken  people,  on  that  pitiless  night, 
when  this  little  band  of  pilgrim  strangers  strayed 
back  to  them  in  the  rain  and  darkness.  “ I fear 
they  often  worked  in  hunger,”  he  said,  “ for  then, 
as  now,  we  had  little  for  ourselves,  our  sick,  or  our 
well ; but  they  brought  us  to  our  feet,  and  the  bless- 
46 


YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 


ing  of  every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  Macclenny 
is  on  them.” 

It  was  with  a kind  of  paternal  pride  that  Dr. 
Gill  advanced  and  placed  before  us  his  matchless 
record  of  cases  attended,  and  life  preserved.  “ This 
is  the  record  of  our  work,”  he  said.  “ I am  proud 
of  it,  and  glad  that  I have  been  able  to  make  it, 
but  without  the  best  efforts  of  these  faithful  nurses 
I could  not  have  done  it;  they  have  stood  firm 
through  everything ; not  a word  of  complaint 
from,  nor  of,  one  of  them,  in  all  these  trying 
months,  and  I thank  you,  our  President,  for  this 
opportunity  to  testify  to  their  merits  in  your  pres- 
ence.” The  full  cups  overflowed,  and  as  we  took 
each  brown  calloused  hand  in  ours,  and  felt  the 
warm  tears  dropping  over  them,  we  realized  how 
far  from  calloused  were  the  hearts  behind  them. 
The  silence  that  followed  was  a season  of  prayer. 

Then  came  opportunity  for  some  conversation, 
questions,  and  explanations.  46  We  wish  to  intro- 
duce to  our  President  our  chief  nurse,  whom  Colonel 
Southmayd  placed  in  charge  of  us  when  we  left 
the  car,  and  directed  us  to  obey  him ; he  is  younger 
than  any  of  us,  Ed.  Holyland.”  A slight  young 
47 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


man  with  clear,  olive  complexion,  and  dark-browed 
earnest  eyes  that  looked  you  straight  in  the  face, 
came  forward ; his  apparent  youthfulness  gave  rise 
to  the  first  remark : 

66  How  old  are  you,  Mr.  Holy  land?  ” 

“ Twenty-nine,  madam.” 

66  And  you  have  taken  charge  of  these  nurses?  ” 

“ I have  done  what  I could  for  their  comfort ; I 
think  that  was  what  the  colonel  desired;  he  knew 
they  would  need  only  care  and  advice,  they  would 
do  their  best  of  themselves.  During  the  few  days 
that  Colonel  Southmayd  remained  in  Jacksonville,” 
he  continued,  “ he  was  able  to  send  us  some  such 
comforts  as  we  needed  for  the  sick,  and  some  nour- 
ishing food  for  ourselves;  but  this  was  only  a few 
days,  you  know,  and  after  that  we  got  on  as  well 
as  we  could  without.  I know  that  after  he  left  the 
nurses  gave  to  the  sick,  the  children,  the  old  and 
the  helpless,  what  they  needed  for  their  own 
strength.” 

“ But  you  did  not  tell  us  this,  Mr.  Holyland.” 

66  No,  we  were  dazed  and  frightened  by  the 
things  we  heard.  We  felt  that  your  organization 
was  having  enough  to  bear.  We  knew  we^must 
48 


YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 


look  to  you  for  our  pay,  and  we  thought,  under 
the  circumstances,  that  would  be  your  share.  But 
permit  me,  please,  to  call  your  attention  to  Mr. 
Wilson  (a  stout  colored  man  advanced),  who  took 
charge  of  a little  hospital  of  six  cases,  and  car- 
ried them  all  through,  day  and  night,  without  an 
hour’s  relief  from  any  person,  and  never  lost  a 
single  case.” 

44  And  permit  me,”  chimed  in  the  clear-toned 
Irish  voice  of  Lizzie  Louis,  44  to  tell  of  Mr.  Holy- 
land  himself,  who  found  a neglected  Italian  family 
a mile  or  more  outside  of  the  town.  He  went  and 
nursed  them  alone,  and  when  the  young  son,  a lad 
of  thirteen  or  fourteen  years,  died,  knowing  there 
was  no  one  to  bury  him  there,  he  wrapped  him  in  a 
blanket  and  brought  him  into  town  on  his  back,  for 
burial.” 

Holy  land’s  face  grew  sad,  and  his  eyes  modestly 
sought  the  floor,  as  he  listened  to  this  unexpected 
revelation. 

46 1 wish  to  speak  of  something  else,”  added 
one  of  the  men,  44  which  we  were  held  back  from 
doing,  and  for  which  we  are  now  very  glad.  We 
should  not  have  thought  of  it  ourselves.  It  is  cus- 
49 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


tomary,”  he  continued,  “ when  a patient  dies  in  an 
epidemic,  to  give  the  nurse  ten  dollars  for  prepar- 
ing the  body  for  burial ; this  was  done  in  our  first 
case,  but  Mr.  Holyland  had  the  gift  promptly  re- 
turned with  thanks,  and  the  explanation  that  we 
were  employed  by  an  organization  which  fully  re- 
warded its  nurses,  and  was  too  high  and  too  correct 
to  accept  tribute  for  misfortune;  it  was  enough 
that  the  patient  was  lost.” 

By  this  time  poor  black  Annie  Evans,  the 
“ Mammy  ” of  the  group,  could  hold  quiet  no 
longer,  and  broke  silence  with,  “ Missus  President ! 
whar  is  de  colonel?  Colonel  Southmayd;  dey  tells 
me  all  de  time  he’s  gone  away  from  New  Orleans, 
and  I can’t  b’l’eve  ’em.  He  can’t  go  away ; he  can’t 
lib  anywhar  else,  he  was  always  dar.  I’se  nursed 
in  yellow  fever  and  cholera  more’n  twenty-five  year, 
and  I neber  went  for  nobody  but  him;  it  arn’t  no 
New  Orleans  for  us  widout  him  dar.  I doesn’t 
know  de  name  of  dat  place  dey  say  he’s  gone  to, 
and  I doesn’t  want  to ; he’ll  be  in  New  Orleans  when 
we  gets  dar.” 

There  were  pitying  glances  among  the  group, 
at  this  little  burst  of  feeling,  for  in  some  way  it 
50 


YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 


was  an  echo  of  their  own ; and  Lena  Seymour  added 
tenderly:  u We  have  been  trying  for  these  two 
months  to  convince  Mammy  about  this,  but  she  is 
firm  in  her  faith  and  sometimes  refuses  to  hear  us.” 
But  the  subject  changed  with  “ How  many  cases 
did  you  lose  in  this  epidemic,  Mammy  ? ” 

“ I didn’t  lose  no  cases ! Lor’  bless  you,  honey, 
I doesn’t  lose  cases  if  dey  hasn’t  been  killed  afore 
dey  gets  to  me;  folks  needn’t  die  of  yellow  fever.” 

We  didn’t  suppose  that  “ Mammy  ” intended 
any  reflection  upon  the  medical  fraternity. 

“ But  now,  friends,  we  must  turn  to  our  settle- 
ment, which  can  not  be  difficult.  Three  dollars  a 
day  for  each  nurse,  for  seventy-nine  days,  till  you 
are  home  on  Thanksgiving  morning.  But  here  are 
only  ten.  There  are  eighteen  on  our  list  who  left 
with  you  and  Colonel  Southmayd;  where  are  your 
comrades?  ” Some  eyes  flashed  and  some  moist- 
ened, as  they  answered,  “ We  do  not  know.” 
“ They  remained  in  the  car  that  night,  and  went 
on  to  Jacksonville.”  Swift,  dark  glances  swept 
from  one  to  another  among  them.  Instinctively 
they  drew  closer  to  each  other,  and  over  knitted 
brows  and  firmly  set  teeth,  a silence  fell  dark  and 
51 


U.  OF  ILL  LIB, 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


ominous  like  a pall,  which  the  future  alone  can 
lift. 

The  bugle  sounded  dinner,  and  this  ended  our 
little  camp-meeting,  than  which  few  camp-meet- 
ings, we  believe,  ever  came  nearer  to  the  heart  of 
Him  who  offered  His  life  a ransom,  and  went  about 
doing  good. 

The  winds  blew  cold  across  the  camp ; the  fires 
shot  out  long  angry  tongues  of  flame  and  drifts 
of  smoke  to  every  passer-by.  The  norther  was 
upon  us.  Night  came  down,  and  all  were  glad  of 
shelter  and  sleep.  The  morning,  quiet,  crisp,  and 
white  with  frost,  revealed  the  blessing  which  had 
fallen  upon  a stricken  land. 

Thanksgiving  was  there  before  its  time.  The 
hard  rules  relaxed.  One  day  more,  and  the  quar- 
antine was  at  an  end.  The  north-bound  train 
halted  below  the  camp,  and  all  together,  President 
and  agent,  tall  doctor  and  happy  nurses,  took 
places  on  it,  the  first  for  headquarters  at  Wash- 
ington, the  last  for  New  Orleans,  and  home  for 
Thanksgiving  morning,  full  of  the  joys  of  a duty 
well  done,  rich  in  well-paid  labor,  in  the  love  of 
those  they  had  befriended,  and  the  approval  of  a 
52 


YELLOW  FEVER  IN  FLORIDA 


whole  people,  South  and  North,  when  once  their 
work  should  be  known  to  them. 

To  the  last,  they  clung  to  their  little  home-made 
Red  Crosses  as  if  they  had  been  gold  and  diamonds ; 
and  when  at  length  the  tracks  diverged  and  the 
parting  must  be  made,  it  was  with  few  words,  low 
and  softly  spoken,  but  meaning  much,  with  a fin- 
ger touch  upon  the  little  cross,  “ When  you  want 
us,  we  are  there.” 

The  supplies  forwarded  by  us  were  estimated  at 
ten  thousand  dollars.  The  money  received  was 
$6,281.58.  Out  of  this  sum  we  paid  our  twenty 
nurses  three  dollars  a day,  for  seventy-nine  days — 
their  cost  of  living,  and  their  transportation  when 
needed.  We  paid  our  doctor  in  charge  twenty 
dollars  a day,  the  customary  price,  for  the  same 
period.  We  paid  our  office  rent,  assistants,  tele- 
graphing, dray  age  for  supplies  sent  on  by  us  (rail- 
road transportation  free),  and  all  incidentals  for 
a relief  work  of  over  three  months’  duration.  This 
ran  our  debit  column  over  on  the  other  side  over 
one  thousand  dollars.  Our  little  part  of  the  relief 
of  that  misfortune  was  estimated  at  fifteen  thou- 
sand dollars,  and  only  those  relieved  were  more 
grateful  than  we. 


53 


IV 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 

On  Sunday  afternoon,  May  31,  1889,  with  the 
waters  of  the  Potomac  two  feet  deep  on  Pennsyl- 
vania Avenue,  a half  dozen  of  us  left  Washington 
for  Johnstown,  over  washed-out  ties  and  broken 
tracks,  with  every  little  gully  swollen  to  a raging 
torrent.  After  forty-eight  hours  of  this,  we 
reached  the  scene,  which  no  one  need  or  could 
describe,  but  if  ever  a people  needed  help  it  was 
these. 

Scarcely  a house  standing  that  was  safe  to  enter, 
the  wrecks  piled  in  rubbish  thirty  feet  in  height, 
four  thousand  dead  in  the  river  beds,  twenty  thou- 
sand foodless  but  for  Pittsburg  bread  rations,  and 
a cold  rain  which  continued  unbroken  by  sunshine 
for  forty  days. 

It  was  at  the  moment  of  supreme  affliction  when 
we  arrived  at  Johnstown.  The  waters  had  sub- 
sided, and  those  of  the  inhabitants  who  had  escaped 
the  fate  of  their  fellows  were  gazing  over  the  scene 
54 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 


of  destruction  and  trying  to  arouse  cnemselves  from 
the  lethargy  that  had  taken  hold  of  them  when 
they  were  stunned  by  the  realization  of  all  the  woe 
that  had  been  visited  upon  them.  How  nobly 
they  responded  to  the  call  of  duty ! How  much  of 
the  heroic  there  is  in  our  people  when  it  is  needed ! 
No  idle  murmurings  of  fate,  but  true  to  the  god- 
like instincts  of  manhood  and  fraternal  love,  they 
quickly  banded  together  to  do  the  best  that  the 
wisest  among  them  could  suggest. 

For  five  weary  months  it  was  our  portion  to  live 
amid  the  scenes  of  destruction,  desolation,  poverty, 
want  and  woe;  sometimes  in  tents,  sometimes  with- 
out ; and  so  much  rain  and  mud,  and  such  a lack  of 
the  commonest  comforts  for  a time,  until  we  could 
build  houses  to  shelter  ourselves  and  those  around 
us.  Without  a safe  and  with  a dry-goods  box  for  a 
desk,  we  conducted  financial  affairs  in  money  and 
material  to  the  extent  of  nearly  half  a million 
dollars. 

I shall  never  lose  the  memory  of  my  first  walk 
on  the  first  day — the  wading  in  mud,  the  climbing 
over  broken  engines,  cars,  heaps  of  iron  rollers, 
broken  timbers,  wrecks  of  houses;  bent  railway 
55 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


tracks  tangled  with  piles  of  iron  wire;  bands  of 
workmen,  squads  of  military,  and  getting  around 
the  bodies  of  dead  animals,  and  often  people  being 
borne  away ; the  smouldering  fires  and  drizzling 
rain — all  for  the  purpose  of  officially  announcing 
to  the  commanding  general  (for  the  place  was 
under  martial  law)  that  the  Red  Cross  had  arrived 
in  the  field.  I could  not  have  puzzled  General 
Hastings  more  if  I had  addressed  him  in  Chinese; 
and  if  ours  had  been  truly  an  Oriental  mission,  the 
gallant  soldier  could  not  have  been  more  courteous 
and  kind.  He  immediately  set  about  devising 
means  for  making  as  comfortable  as  possible  a 
“ poor,  lone  woman,”  helpless,  of  course,  upon  such 
a field.  It  was  with  considerable  difficulty  that  I 
could  convince  him  that  the  Red  Cross  had  a way 
of  taking  care  of  itself  at  least,  and  was  not  likely 
to  suffer  from  neglect. 

Not  a business  house  or  bank  left,  the  safes  all 
in  the  bottom  of  the  river;  our  little  pocketbook 
was  useless,  there  was  nothing  to  buy,  and  it  would 
not  bring  back  the  dead.  With  the  shelter  of  the 
tents  of  the  Philadelphia  Red  Cross,  that  joined  us 
en  route  with  supplies,  when  we  could  find  a cleared 
56 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 


place  to  spread,  or  soil  to  hold  them,  with  a dry- 
goods  box  for  a desk,  our  stenographer  commenced 
to  rescue  the  first  dispatches  of  any  description  that 
entered  that  desolate  city.  The  disturbed  rivers 
lapped  wearily  back  and  forth,  the  people,  dazed 
and  dumb,  dug  in  the  muddy  banks  for  their  dead. 
Hastings  with  his  little  army  of  militia  kept  order. 

Soon  supplies  commenced  to  pour  in  from  every- 
where, to  be  received,  sheltered  as  best  they  could 
be  from  the  incessant  rain,  and  distributed  by  hu- 
man hands,  for  it  was  three  weeks  before  even  a 
cart  could  pass  the  streets. 

But  I am  not  here  to  describe  Johnstown — the 
noble  help  that  came  to  it,  nor  the  still  more  noble 
people  that  received  it — but  simply  to  say  that  the 
little  untried  and  unskilled  Red  Cross  played  its 
minor  tune  of  a single  fife  among  the  grand  chorus 
of  relief  of  the  whole  country,  that  rose  like  an 
anthem,  till  over  four  millions  in  money,  contrib- 
uted to  its  main  body  of  relief,  with  the  faithful 
Kreamer  at  its  head,  had  modestly  taken  the  place 
of  the  twelve  millions  destroyed.  But  after  all  it 
was  largely  the  supplies  that  saved  the  people  at 
first,  as  it  always  is,  and  the  distribution  of  which 
5 57 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


largely  consumed  the  money  that  was  contributed 
later. 

From  one  mammoth  tent  which  served  as  a 
warehouse,  food  and  clothing  were  given  out  to 
the  waiting  people  through  the  hands  of  such  vol- 
unteer agents,  both  women  and  men,  as  I scarcely 
dare  hope  to  ever  see  gathered  together  in  one  work 
again.  The  great  cry  which  had  gone  out  had 
aroused  the  entire  country,  and  our  old-time  help- 
ers, full  of  rich  experience  and  still  richer  love  for 
the  work,  faithful  to  the  cross  of  humanity  as  the 
devotee  to  the  cross  of  the  Master,  came  up  from 
every  point — the  floods,  the  cyclones,  the  battle- 
fields— and  kneeling  before  the  shrine,  pledged 
heart  and  service  anew  to  the  work.  Fair  hands 
laying  aside  their  diamonds,  and  business  men 
their  cares,  left  homes  of  elegance  and  luxury  to 
open  rough  boxes  and  barrels,  handle  second-hand 
clothing,  eat  coarse  food  at  rough-board  tables, 
sleep  on  cots  under  a dripping  canvas  tent,  all  for 
the  love  of  humanity  symbolized  in  the  little  flag 
that  floated  above  them. 

Clergymen  left  their  pulpits  and  laymen  their 
charge  to  tramp  over  the  hillsides  from  house  to 
58 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 


house,  to  find  who  needed  and  suffered,  and  to  carry 
to  them  from  our  tents  on  their  shoulders,  like 
beasts  of  burden,  the  huge  bundles  of  relief,  where 
no  beast  of  burden  could  reach. 

We  had  been  early  requested  by  official  resolu- 
tion of  the  Finance  Committee  of  the  City  of 
Johnstown  to  aid  them  in  the  erection  of  houses. 
We  accepted  the  invitation,  and  at  the  same  time 
proposed  to  aid  in  furnishing  the  nucleus  of  a 
household  for  the  home  which  should  in  any  way 
be  made  up.  This  aid  seemed  imperative,  as  noth- 
ing was  left  for  them  to  commence  living  with, 
neither  beds,  chairs,  tables,  nor  cooking  utensils  of 
any  kind;  and  there  were  few  if  any  stores  open, 
and  no  furniture  in  town. 

Of  this  labor  we  had  our  share.  Six  buildings 
of  one  hundred  feet  by  fifty,  later  known  as  “ Red 
Cross  Hotels,”  were  quickly  put  up  to  shelter  the 
people,  furnished,  supplied,  and  kept  like  hotels, 
free  of  all  cost  to  them,  while  others  were  built  by 
the  general  committee.  Three  thousand  of  the 
latter  were  erected,  and  the  Red  Cross  furnished 
every  one  with  substantial,  newly  purchased  furni- 
ture, ready  for  occupancy.  The  books  of  the 
59 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


“ Titusville  Manufacturing  Company  ” will  show 
one  cash  order  of  ten  thousand  dollars  for  furni- 
ture. The  three  thousand  houses  thus  furnished 
each  accommodated  two  families. 

A ponderous  book  of  nearly  two  feet  square 
shows  the  name,  sex,  and  number  of  persons  of  each 
family,  and  a list  of  every  article  received  by  them. 
To-day  one  looks  in  wonder  at  such  a display  of 
clerical  labor  and  accuracy,  under  even  favorable 
conditions. 

This  was  only  accomplished  by  the  hard,  unpaid 
labor  of  every  officer,  and  the  large  amount  of 
volunteer  friendly  aid  that  came  to  us. 

The  great  manufacturers  of  the  country,  and 
the  heavy  contributing  agents,  on  learning  our  in- 
tentions, sent,  without  a hint  from  us,  many  of 
their  articles,  as,  for  instance,  New  Bedford,  Mass., 
sent  mattresses  and  bedding;  Sheboygan,  Wis.,  sent 
furniture  and  enameled  ironware;  Titusville,  Pa., 
with  a population  of  ten  thousand,  sent  ten  thou- 
sand dollars’  worth  of  its  well-made  bedsteads, 
springs,  extension-tables,  chairs,  stands  and  rock- 
ers; and  the  well-known  New  York  newspaper, 
The  Mail  and  Express,  sent  a large  lot  of  mat- 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 


tresses,  feather  pillows,  bedclothing,  sheets,  and 
pillow-slips  by  the  thousand  and  cooking  utensils 
by  the  ten  thousands.  Six  large  teams  were  in  con- 
stant service  delivering  these  goods. 

When  the  contributions  slackened  or  ceased, 
and  more  material  was  needed,  we  purchased  of  the 
same  firms  which  had  contributed,  keeping  our 
stock  good  until  all  applications  were  filled.  The 
record  on  our  books  showed  that  over  twenty-five 
thousand  persons  had  been  directly  served  by  us. 
They  had  received  our  help  independently  and 
without  begging.  No  child  has  learned  to  beg  at 
the  doors  of  the  Red  Cross. 

It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  fury  of  the 
deluge  had  swept  almost  entirely  the  homes  of  the 
wealthy,  the  elegant,  the  cultured  leaders  of  soci- 
ety, and  the  fathers  of  the  town.  This  class  who 
were  spared  were  more  painfully  homeless  than  the 
indigent  poor,  who  could  still  huddle  in  together. 
They  could  not  go  away,  for  the  suffering  and  de- 
moralized town  needed  their  care  and  oversight 
more  than  ever  before.  There  was  no  home  for 
them,  nowhere  to  get  a meal  of  food  or  to  sleep. 
Still  they  must  work  on,  and  the  stranger  coming 
61 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


to  town  on  business  must  go  unfed,  with  no  shelter 
at  night,  if  he  would  sleep,  or,  indeed,  escape  being 
picked  up  by  the  military  guard. 

To  meet  these  necessities,  and  being  apprehen- 
sive that  some  good  lives  might  go  out  under  the 
existing  lack  of  accommodations,  it  was  decided  to 
erect  a building  similar  to  our  warehouse.  The 
use  of  the  former  site  of  the  Episcopal  Church  was 
generously  tendered  us  by  the  Bishop  early  in 
June,  for  any  purpose  we  might  desire.  This 
house,  which  was  soon  erected,  was  known  as  the 
“ Locust  Street  Red  Cross  Hotel” ; it  stood  some 
fifty  rods  from  our  warehouse,  and  was  fifty  by  one 
hundred  and  sixteen  feet  in  dimensions,  two  stories 
in  height,  with  lantern  roof,  built  of  hemlock,  sin- 
gle siding,  papered  inside  with  heavy  building 
paper,  and  heated  by  natural  gas,  as  all  our  build- 
ings were.  It  consisted  of  thirty-four  rooms,  be- 
sides kitchen,  laundry,  bath-rooms  with  hot  and 
cold  water,  and  one  main  dining-hall  and  sitting- 
room  through  the  center,  sixteen  feet  in  width  by 
one  hundred  in  length. 

It  was  fully  furnished  with  excellent  beds,  bed- 
ding, bureaus,  tables,  chairs,  and  all  needful  house- 
62 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 


keeping  furniture.  A competent  landlady,  who, 
like  the  rest,  had  a few  weeks  before  floated  down 
over  the  same  ground  on  the  roof  of  her  house  in 
thirty  feet  of  water,  was  placed  in  charge,  with  in- 
structions to  keep  a good  house,  make  what  she 
could  rent  free,  but  charging  no  Johnstown  person 
over  twenty-five  cents  for  a meal  of  food. 

This  was  the  first  attempt  at  social  life  after  that 
terrible  separation,  and  its  success  was  something 
that  I am  very  proud  of.  The  house  was  full  of 
townspeople  from  the  first  day,  and  strangers  no 
longer  looked  in  vain  for  accommodations. 

The  conception  of  the  need  of  this  house,  and 
the  method  of  selecting  its  inmates,  and  the  man- 
ner of  inducting  them  into  their  new  home,  were 
somewhat  unique  and  may  be  of  interest  to  the 
reader.  I had  noticed  among  the  brave  and  true 
men,  who  were  working  in  the  mud  and  rain,  many 
refined-looking  gentlemen,  who  were,  before  this 
great  misfortune  carried  away  most  of  their 
belongings,  the  wealthiest  and  most  influential  citi- 
zens. Never  having  had  to  struggle  amid  such 
hardships  and  deprivations,  their  sufferings  were 
more  acute  than  those  of  the  poorer  and  more. 
63 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


hardy  people;  and  it  did  not  require  any  great 
foresight  to  know  that  they  were  physically  in- 
capable of  such  labor  if  prolonged,  nor  to  predict 
their  early  sickness  and  death  if  they  were  not  prop- 
erly housed  and  fed.  As  the  salvation  of  the  town 
depended  in  a great  measure  upon  the  efforts  of 
these  men,  it  was  vitally  necessary  that  their  lives 
should  be  preserved.  Realizing  all  this,  it  occurred 
to  us  that  the  most  important  thing  to  do,  next  to 
feeding  the  hungry,  was  to  provide  proper  shelter 
for  these  delicate  men  and  their  families.  The 
idea  once  conceived  was  soon  communicated  to  my 
staff,  and,  after  due  consideration,  it  was  put  in 
the  way  of  realization. 

On  the  afternoon  of  July  27th  hundreds  of  citi- 
zens called  on  us,  and  congratulations  and  good 
wishes  were  the  order  of  the  day.  As  the  members 
of  each  family  whom  we  had  selected  to  occupy 
apartments  in  the  house  arrived,  they  were  quietly 
taken  aside  and  requested  to  remain  and  have  din- 
ner with  us.  After  all  the  guests  were  departed 
except  those  who  had  been  requested  to  remain, 
dinner  was  announced,  and  the  party  was  seated  by 
the  members  of  the  Red  Cross.  Beside  the  plate 
64 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 


of  each  head  of  a family  were  laid  the  keys  to  an 
apartment,  with  a card  inviting  the  family  to  take 
possession  at  once,  and  remain  as  long  as  they 
chose. 

I can  not  describe  the  scene  that  followed;  there 
were  tears  and  broken  voices ; suffice  to  say,  the 
members  of  that  household  were  made  happy  and 
comfortable  for  many  long  months ; and  I venture 
to  assert  that  those  now  living  recall  those  days 
with  the  fondest  recollections. 

The  contributions  to  the  general  committee  had 
been  so  liberal  that  it  was  possible  to  erect  and 
provide  for  the  great  burial-place  of  its  dead — 
“ Grand  View,”  that  overlooks  the  city.  It  was 
also  suggested  that  a benevolent  society,  as  a per- 
manent institution,  be  formed  by  the  united  action 
of  the  general  committee  and  the  Red  Cross. 
This  was  successfully  accomplished  by  the  gen- 
erous provision  of  eight  thousand  dollars  from  the 
committee  on  its  part  and  the  turning  over  of  our 
well-made  and  supplied  hospital  buildings,  and 
the  funds  we  had  left  placed  in  charge  of  a faith- 
ful custodian  under  our  pay  for  the  following 
six  months. 


65 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


This  is  the  present  “ Union  Benevolent  Society  ” 
of  Johnstown  to-day. 

I remained  five  months  with  these  people  with- 
out once  visiting  my  own  home,  only  returning  to 
it  when  the  frost  had  killed  the  green  I had  left 
in  May. 

In  that  time,  it  was  estimated,  we  had  housed, 
handled,  and  distributed  $211,000  worth  of  sup- 
plies— new  and  old — for,  by  request  of  the  weary 
chairman  of  the  general  committee,  at  the  last,  we 
took  up  the  close  of  its  distribution.  It  is  our  joy 
and  pride  to  recall  how  closely  we  worked  in  con- 
nection with  that  honored  committee  from  first  to 
last,  and  how  strong  and  unsullied  that  friendship 
has  remained. 

The  value  of  money  that  passed  through  our 
hands  was  $39,000,  as  stated  in  the  official  report 
of  the  general  committee,  to  which  all  required 
returns  wTere  made,  recorded,  and  published  by  the 
committee. 

Our  usual  quota  of  assistants  was  fifty  persons, 
the  higher  grade  of  men  and  women  assistants 
largely  volunteers.  Two  railroads  brought  our 
supplies.  To  handle  these  the  strongest  men  were 
66 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 


required,  and  seven  two-horse  teams  ran  daily  for 
three  and  a half  months  in  the  distribution,  at  cus- 
tomary rates  of  pay.  These  were  the  working- 
men of  the  town  who  had  suffered  with  the  rest. 

It  was  a joy  that  in  all  the  uncertainties  of  that 
uncertain  field  not  a single  complaint  ever  reached 
us  of  the  non-acknowledgment  of  a dollar  en- 
trusted to  us. 

The  paths  of  charity  are  over  roadways  of 
ashes;  and  he  who  would  tread  them  must  be  pre- 
pared to  meet  opposition,  misconstruction,  jeal- 
ousy, and  calumny.  Let  his  work  be  that  of  angels 
— still  it  will  not  satisfy  all. 

In  the  light  of  recent  events,  I may  perhaps  be 
pardoned  for  quoting  a few  lines  from  the  official 
report  of  the  Johnstown  Flood  Finance  Commit- 
tee appointed  by  Governor  Beaver,  as  showing  how 
these  gentlemen,  the  foremost  men  in  the  commu- 
nity, regarded  our  efforts  to  give  them  a helping 
hand : 

“ In  this  matter  of  sheltering  the  people,  as  in 
others  of  like  importance,  Miss  Clara  Barton, 
President  of  the  Red  Cross  Association,  was  most 
helpful.  At  a time  when  there  was  a doubt  if  the 

67 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


Flood  Commission  could  furnish  houses  of  suitable 
character  and  with  the  requisite  promptness,  she 
offered  to  assume  charge,  and  she  erected  with  the 
funds  of  the  Association  three  large  apartment 
houses,  which  afforded  comfortable  lodgings  for 
many  houseless  people.  She  was  among  the  first 
to  arrive  on  the  scene  of  calamity,  bringing  with 
her  Dr.  Hubbell,  the  Field  Officer  of  the  Red  Cross 
Association,  and  a staff  of  skilled  assistants.  She 
made  her  own  organization  for  relief  work  in  every 
form,  disposing  of  the  large  resources  under  her 
control  with  such  wisdom  and  tenderness  that  the 
charity  of  the  Red  Cross  had  no  sting,  and  its  re- 
cipients are  not  Miss  Barton’s  dependents,  but  her 
friends.  She  was  also  the  last  of  the  ministering 
spirits  to  leave  the  scene  of  her  labors,  and  she  left 
her  apartment  houses  for  use  during  the  winter, 
and  turned  over  her  warehouse  with  its  store  of 
furniture,  bedding,  and  clothing,  and  a well- 
equipped  infirmary,  to  the  Union  Benevolent  Asso- 
ciation of  the  Conemaugh  Valley,  the  organization 
of  which  she  advised  and  helped  to  form;  and  its 
lady  visitors  have  so  well  performed  their  work  that 
the  dreaded  winter  has  no  terrors,  mendicancy  has 
68 


THE  JOHNSTOWN  FLOOD 


been  repressed,  and  not  a single  case  of  unrelieved 
suffering  is  known  to  have  occurred  in  all  the 
flooded  district.” 

Enterprising,  industrious,  and  hopeful,  the  new 
Johnstown,  phcenix-like,  rose  from  its  ruins  more 
beautiful  than  the  old,  with  a ceaseless  throb  of 
grateful  memory  for  every  kind  act  rendered,  and 
every  thought  of  sympathy  given  her  in  her  great 
hour  of  desolation  and  woe.  God  bless  her,  and 
God  bless  all  who  helped  save  her ! 


69 


V 


THE  RUSSIAN  FAMINE 

As  early  as  1889,  the  foreign  journals  began 
to  tell  us  of  the  apprehension  caused  by  an  unusual 
failure  of  the  crops  in  Central  Russia,  extending 
from  Moscow  north  and  south,  and  east  beyond 
the  Ural  Mountains  and  into  Siberia — embracing 
an  era  of  a million  square  miles.  This  failure  was 
followed  by  another  in  1890. 

Eighteen  hundred  and  ninety-one  found  the  old- 
time  granaries  empty,  and  a total  failure  of  the 
crops,  and  a population  of  thirty-five  millions  of 
people,  paralyzed  with  the  dread  of  approaching 
famine. 

The  American  Red  Cross  had  placed  itself  in 
communication  with  the  Secretary  of  State,  Hon. 
James  G.  Blaine,  whose  name  and  memory  it 
treasures  with  reverence,  and  Mr.  Alexander 
Gregor,  the  accomplished  Russian  Charge  cT Af- 
faires at  Washington,  and  ascertained  that  Russia 
would  gladly  receive  donations  of  relief  from 
70 


THE  RUSSIAN  FAMINE 


America.  She  would  even  send  her  ships  for  any 
food  that  might  be  offered.  This,  America  would 
not  permit  and  Congress  was  appealed  to  for  ocean 
transportation.  The  Senate  voted  a liberal  ap- 
propriation, which  was  defeated  in  the  House. 

Then  the  Red  Cross,  with  the  aid  of  the  citizens 
of  Washington,  took  up  the  matter.  They  were 
joined  by  the  Order  of  Elks,  which  contributed 
a sum  of  seven  hundred  dollars,  than  which  per- 
haps that  liberal  Order  never  made  a more  timely 
gift.  Funds  were  raised  to  charter  a steamship 
for  the  Red  Cross.  The  spirit  spread  generally 
over  the  country.  Philadelphia  sent  a messenger 
to  learn  what  Washington  was  doing,  and  was  ad- 
vised to  charter  one  of  its  own  ships,  which  was 
done,  and  two  consignments  were  finally  made  by 
them. 

Minnesota  had  already  acted,  and  later,  by  the 
advice  and  aid  of  the  extra  provision  of  the  Red 
Cross,  the  Christian  Herald  sent  out  its  ship  cargo, 
under  convoy  of  Rev.  Dr.  Talmage. 

But  the  State  of  Iowa  led  all  others  in  active 
generosity. 

Under  the  supervision  of  Mr.  B.  F.  Tillinghast, 

71 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED.  CROSS 


of  Davenport,  aided  by  the  able  pen  of  Miss  Alice 
French,  that  State  alone  raised,  and  sent  in  trains 
across  the  country  from  Iowa  to  New  York,  one 
hundred  and  seventeen  thousand  bushels  of  corn 
and  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  of  flour,  which 
was  loaded  onto  the  “ Tynehead,”  a staunch  British 
ship,  and  consigned  to  the  port  of  Riga. 

That  year  we  had  been  notified  of  an  Inter- 
national Conference  to  be  held  in  Rome.  The  cus- 
tomary appropriation  was  made  by  Congress,  and 
again  I was  appointed  delegate.  Too  much  oc- 
cupied by  the  relief  at  home,  Dr.  Hubbell,  also  a 
delegate,  went  in  my  place  to  Rome,  and  from  there 
reached  Riga  in  time  to  receive  and  direct  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  immense  cargo  of  grain  through- 
out Russia. 

When  Dr.  Hubbell  reached  Riga  he  learned  that 
two  hundred  and  forty  peasants  had  been  waiting 
on  the  dock  two  days,  watching  and  waiting  for 
the  ship  from  America.  Not  waiting  for  food,  for 
Riga  was  not  in  a famine  province,  but  waiting 
that  they  might  not  miss  the  opportunity  and  the 
honor  of  unloading  the  American  ship  that  had 
brought  food  to  their  unfortunate  brothers  in  the 
72 


THE  RUSSIAN  FAMINE 


interior.  As  soon  as  they  could  get  into  the  hold 
of  the  ship,  one  hundred  and  forty  of  them  began 
the  unloading.  They  worked  night  and  day,  with- 
out rest,  determined  to  unload  the  entire  cargo 
themselves,  without  help.  But  on  the  third  night 
our  Consul,  Mr.  Bornholdt,  insisted  on  their  having 
a relief  of  twelve  hours,  and  when  the  twelve  hours 
were  up  they  were  all  in  their  places  again,  and  re- 
mained until  the  cargo  was  out,  declining  to  take 
any  pay  for  their  labor.  Twelve  women  worked 
along  with  them  in  the  same  spirit,  in  the  ship  and 
on  the  dock,  with  needles,  sewing  up  the  rents  in 
the  bags,  to  prevent  waste  in  handling,  and  cooking 
meals  for  the  men. 

The  Mayor  of  St.  Petersburg,  in  an  address  on 
behalf  of  that  city  to  American  donors,  declared: 

“ The  Russian  people  know  how  to  be  grateful. 
If  up  to  this  day  these  two  great  countries,  Russia 
and  the  United  States,  have  not  only  never  quar- 
reled, but  on  the  contrary  wished  each  other  pros- 
perity and  strength  always,  these  feelings  of  sym- 
pathy can  grow  only  stronger  in  the  future,  both 
countries  being  conscious  that  in  the  season  of  trial 

for  either  it  will  find  in  the  other  cordial  succor  and 

6 73 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


support.  And  can  true  friendship  be  tested  if  not 
in  the  hour  of  misfortune?  ” 

A peasant  of  Samara  sent  to  a Russian  editor, 
together  with  three  colored  eggs,  a letter  which  he 
asked  to  have  forwarded  to  America.  The  follow- 
ing is  an  extract  from  the  letter : 

“ Christ  is  risen!  To  the  merciful  benefactors, 
the  protectors  of  the  poor,  the  feeders  of  the  starv- 
ing, the  guardians  of  the  orphans — Christ  is  risen. 

“ North  Americans!  May  the  Lord  grant  you 
a peaceful  and  long  life  and  prosperity  to  your 
land,  and  may  your  fields  be  filled  with  abundant 
harvest — Christ  is  risen.  Your  mercifulness  gives 
us  a helping  hand.  Through  your  charity  you 
have  satisfied  the  starving.  And  for  your  magnifi- 
cent alms  accept  from  me  this  humble  gift,  which 
I send  to  the  entire  American  people  for  your  great 
beneficence,  from  all  the  hearts  of  the  poor  filled 
with  feelings  of  joy.” 

In  the  gratitude  manifested  by  the  Russian 
Government  and  people  we  were  glad  to  feel  that  a 
slight  return  had  been  made  to  Russia  for  past 
favors  in  our  own  peril,  and  a friendship  never 
broken. 


74 


THE  RUSSIAN  FAMINE 


The  Department  of  State  at  Washington,  under 
date  of  January  11,  1894,  forwarded  the  follow- 
ing: 

“ I have  to  inform  you  that  on  November  7, 
1893,  the  American  Minister  at  St.  Petersburg 
received  from  the  nobility  of  that  city,  through 
their  Marshal,  Count  Alexis  Bobrinskoy,  an  ad- 
dress to  the  people  of  the  United  States.  This  ad- 
dress, which  is  in  the  English  language,  embodies 
in  terms  fitly  chosen  the  thanks  of  the  Russian  peo- 
ple to  the  American  for  the  aid  sent  to  their 
country  from  our  own  during  the  famine  period 
of  the  past  two  years.  It  is  beautifully  engrossed 
and  its  illumination  embraces  water-color  draw- 
ings which  render  it  a most  attractive  work  of  art. 

“ The  document,  which  is  superbly  bound  and 
enclosed  in  a fine  case,  was  duly  forwarded  to  this 
city  by  the  American  Minister  at  St.  Petersburg, 
and  will  be  given  a conspicuous  place  in  the  library 
of  this  department.” 

In  so  general  an  uprising  of  relief  no  great  sum 
in  contributions  could  be  expected  from  any  one 
source.  The  Red  Cross  felt  that,  if  no  more,  it  was 
glad  to  be  able  to  pay,  by  the  generous  help  of  the 
75 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


city  of  Washington,  the  charter  of  a ship  that 
conveyed  its  corn — $12,500 — besides  several  thou- 
sands distributed  in  Russia  through  Tolstoi  and 
American  agents  there. 

We  paid  the  cost  of  loading,  superintended  by 
Mr.  Tillinghast  in  person,  whose  financial  record 
shows  the  exact  cost  of  transportation.  All  this 
was  done  in  connection  with  the  State  of  Iowa.  Our 
home  record  showed,  when  all  was  finished,  a field 
closed  with  a small  balance  in  our  favor,  which  we 
had  no  active  call  for.  By  the  advice  of  one  of  the 
best  personal  advisers,  bankers,  and  friends  that 
the  Red  Cross  has  ever  had,  this  small  sum  was 
placed  in  bank,  in  readiness  for  the  next  call. 


76 


VI 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 

This  little  timely  provision,  advisedly  made, 
was  none  too  much  or  none  too  soon. 

On  the  28th  of  August,  1893,  a hurricane  and 
tidal  wave  from  the  direction  of  the  West  Indies 
swept  the  coast  of  South  Carolina,  covering  its 
entire  range  of  Port  Royal  Islands,  sixteen  feet 
below  the  sea.  These  islands  had  thirty-five  thou- 
sand inhabitants,  mainly  negroes.  At  first,  it  was 
thought  that  all  must  have  perished.  Later,  it 
was  found  that  only  some  four  or  five  thousand 
had  been  drowned,  and  that  thirty  thousand  re- 
mained with  no  earthly  possession  of  home,  cloth- 
ing, or  food.  The  few  boats  not  swept  away  took 
them  over  to  the  mainland  in  thousands,  and  calls 
went  out  for  help.  In  this  emergency  Governor 
Tillman  called  for  the  services  of  the  Red  Cross, 
and  my  note-book  has  this  passage: 

“ The  next  night,  in  a dark,  cheerless  September 
mist,  I closed  my  door  behind  me  for  ten  months, 

77 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


and  with  three  assistants  went  to  the  station  to 
meet  Senator  Butler.” 

At  Columbia  we  were  joined  by  Governor  Till- 
man, and  thus  reinforced  proceeded  to  Beaufort. 
After  due  examination  the  work  which  had  been 
officially  placed  with  us  by  the  Governor  was  ac- 
cepted October  1st,  and  carried  on  until  the  fol- 
lowing July. 

The  submerged  lands  were  drained,  three  hun- 
dred miles  of  ditches  made,  a million  feet  of  lumber 
purchased  and  houses  built,  fields  and  gardens 
planted  with  the  best  seed  in  the  United  States,  and 
the  work  all  done  by  the  people  themselves.  The 
thousands  of  boxes  of  clothing  received  were  dis- 
tributed among  them,  and  we  left  them  in  July, 
1894,  supplies  of  vegetables  for  the  city  of  Beau- 
fort. 

Free  transportation  for  supplies  continued  till 
about  March.  No  provisions  in  kind  were  sent 
from  any  source  after  the  first  four  weeks  of  pub- 
lic excitement.  After  this  all  foodstuffs  were 
purchased  in  Charleston  and  distributed  as  rations. 
Men  were  compelled  to  work  on  the  building  of 
their  own  homes  in  order  to  receive  rations. 

78 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 


We  found  them  an  industrious,  grateful  class 
of  people,  far  above  the  ordinary  grade  usually 
met.  They  largely  owned  their  little  homes,  and 
appreciated  instruction  in  the  way  of  improving 
them.  The  tender  memory  of  the  childlike  confi- 
dence and  obedience  of  this  ebony-faced  population 
is  something  that  time  cannot  efface  from  either  us 
or  them. 

On  the  third  day  after  our  arrival  at  Beaufort 
four  middle-aged  colored  men  came  to  the  door 
of  the  room  we  had  appropriated  as  an  office,  and 
respectfully  asked  to  see  “ Miss  Clare.”  They 
were  admitted,  and  I waited  to  learn  what  request 
they  would  probably  make  of  me.  At  length  the 
tallest  and  evidently  the  leader,  said: 

“ Miss  Clare,  we  knows  you  doesn’t  remember 
us.  But  we  never  fo’gits  you.  We  has  all  of  us 
got  somethin’  to  show  you.” 

Slipping  up  a soiled,  ragged  shirtsleeve,  he 
showed  me  an  ugly  scar  above  the  elbow,  reaching 
to  the  shoulder.  “ Wagner?  ” I asked. 

“ Yes,  Miss  Clare,  and  you  drissed  it  for  me  that 
night,  when  I crawled  down  the  beach — ’cause  my 
leg  was  broke  too,”  he  replied.  66  And  we  was  all 
79 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


of  us  there,  and  you  took  care  of  us  all  and  drissed 
our  wounz.  I was  with  Colonel  Shaw,  and  crawled 
out  of  the  fote.  The  oth’s  nevah  got  in.  But  we 
all  got  to  you,  Miss  Clare.  And  now  you’s  got  to 
us.  We’s  talked  about  you  a heap  o’  times,  but 
we  nevah  ’spected  to  see  you.  We’s  nevah  fo’git 
it,  Miss  Clare.” 

One  by  one  they  showed  their  scars.  There  was 
very  little  clothing  to  hide  them — bullet  wound  and 
sabre  stroke.  The  memory,  dark  and  sad,  stood 
out  before  us  all.  It  was  a moment  not  to  be  for- 
gotten. 

Our  purchases  consisted  of  meat,  mainly  dry 
sides  of  pork,  and  grits,  or  hominy,  for  eating. 
For  planting,  beside  the  seed  contributed  and  the 
nine  hundred  bushels  of  Irish  potatoes,  were 
eighteen  hundred  bushels  of  Northern  Flint  seed 
corn. 

The  contributions  of  food  and  clothing  had 
been  sent  to  Beaufort,  and  were  in  the  warehouses 
of  the  perplexed  committee  of  its  leading  citizens. 
This  had  naturally  drawn  all  the  inhabitants  of 
the  scores  of  desolated  islands  for  fifty  miles  to 
Beaufort,  until,  it  is  safe  to  say,  that  fifteen  to 
80 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 


twenty  thousand  refugees  had  gathered  there,  liv- 
ing in  its  streets  and  waiting  to  be  fed  from  day 
to  day. 

As  the  food  was  there  they  could  not  be  induced 
to  return  to  the  islands.  Indeed,  there  was  more 
often  nothing  on  the  islands  to  return  to.  The 
description  given  by  the  heads  of  families  and 
owners,  for  they  had  largely  owned  their  homes, 
gotten  on  the  old-time  plantations  “ To  de  wah,” 
was  this:  If  all  had  been  swept  out  to  sea  and 
nothing  remained,  it  was  described  as,  “ done 
gone.”  But  if  thrown  down  and  parts  of  the  wreck 
still  remained,  it  was  described  as  “ ractified.” 

A few  of  the  churches,  being  larger  and  more 
strongly  built,  still  remained  standing.  During 
the  first  ten  days  of  our  stay  it  would  have  been 
impossible  to  drive  through  the  principal  streets 
of  Beaufort.  They  were  a solid  moving  mass, 
crowding  as  near  to  the  storehouses  as  possible  to 
get,  in  spite  of  the  policeman,  who  kindly  held 
them  back. 

We  sat  daily  in  counsel  with  the  local  committee, 
until  seeing  that  only  systematic  measures  and  a 
decided  change  could  relieve  the  conditions  and 

81 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


render  the  city  safe.  We  then,  on  the  first  of  Octo- 
ber, decided  to  accede  to  the  request  of  the  Gover- 
nor made  at  first,  and  take  sole  charge  of  the  re- 
lief. 

Our  first  order  was  to  close  every  storehouse, 
both  of  food  and  clothing,  and  inform  the  people 
that  all  distributions  would  hereafter  be  made  from 
the  islands.  It  is  impossible  to  convey  to  the  mind 
of  the  reader  the  difficulty  of  getting  into  a few 
intelligent  sentences  the  idea  of  the  means  adopted 
to  produce  these  changes  and  inaugurate  a sys- 
tem that  was  to  restore  to  active  habits  of  life  a 
body  of  utterly  homeless,  demoralized,  and  igno- 
rant people,  equal  in  numbers  to  a small  new  State. 

If  these  little  covers  would  admit  the  scores  of 
pages  of  admirably  written  reports  of  the  officers 
and  helpers  on  that  field,  every  line  replete  with 
interest,  that  lie  here  at  my  hand,  it  would  be  an 
easy  and  a welcome  task  to  reproduce  them  entire, 
and  no  more  than  deserved  for  their  faithful  and 
gratuitous  labor. 

Dr.  Egan’s  report  has  this  passage: 

“ October  2d  came  my  marching  orders.  Take 
charge  of  the  warehouse  and  stores,  make  an  in- 
82 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 


ventory  of  them,  disperse  these  men,  and  rid  the 
city  of  the  demoralizing  influence  of  idle  people. 
The  doors  are  closed  and  the  inventory  begun.” 

The  local  committee  had  kindly  pointed  out  the 
most  suitable  man  to  take  charge  of  each  com- 
munity, and  to  him  would  be  consigned  the  rations 
to  be  distributed  to  each  family  and  person  within 
his  charge,  for  which  receipt  and  distribution  he 
became  as  responsible  as  a merchant. 

The  goods  and  rations  were  at  once  shipped 
across  the  bay  to  them,  or  taken  on  their  own  boats, 
if  so  fortunate  as  to  have  one  left  from  the  storm. 
It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  multitude  followed  the 
food. 

In  three  days  there  were  not  people  enough  left 
in  Beaufort,  besides  its  own,  to  be  hired  for  a 66  job 
of  work.”  Then  followed  the  necessity  for  ma- 
terial to  rebuild  the  “ done  gone,”  and  to  repair 
the  “ ractified  ” homes. 

A million  feet  of  pine  lumber  was  purchased  of 
a leading  lumber  dealer,  shipped  down  the  Comba- 
hee  River,  and  delivered  at  the  landings  on  the 
islands  most  convenient  of  access  to  the  points 
needed.  Each  man  received  his  lumber  by  order 
83 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


and  receipt,  and  was  under  obligation  to  build  his 
own  house.  The  work  was  all  performed  by  them- 
selves. A garden  was  insisted  upon.  At  first  this 
proposition  was  resisted  as  impracticable. 

“ No  use,  Mistah — no  use — ’cause  de  pig  eat  it 
all  up.” 

It  was  suggested  that  a fence  might  be  made 
enclosing  at  least  a quarter  of  an  acre  about  the 
house  to  keep  “ de  pig  ” out,  as  we  should  later 
send,  for  planting,  the  best  seed  to  be  obtained  in 
the  country. 

To  this  moment  our  thanks  go  out  to  the  Agri- 
cultural Department  at  Washington,  and  the  great 
seed  houses  of  all  the  North,  for  the  generous  dona- 
tions that  served  to  bring  once  more  into  self-sus- 
taining relations  this  destitute  and  well-disposed 
people. 

The  fact  that  the  building  of  the  fence,  and  its 
subsequent  keeping  in  strict  repair,  had  some  bear- 
ing on  the  weekly  issuance  of  rations,  was  evidently 
not  without  its  influence.  There  were  no  poor 
fences  and  “ de  pig  ” did  no  damage.  But  there 
were  such  gardens,  and  of  such  varieties,  as  those 
islands  had  never  before  seen. 

84 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 


The  earliest  crop  to  strive  for,  beside  the  gar- 
dens, was  the  Irish  potato,  which  they  had  never 
raised.  Nine  hundred  bushels  were  purchased  from 
Savannah  for  planting  in  February.  The  diffi- 
culty of  distributing  the  potatoes  lay  in  the  fact 
that  they  would  be  more  likely  to  find  their  way 
into  the  dinner  pot  than  into  the  ground.  To 
avoid  this  the  court-yard  inside  our  headquarters 
was  appropriated  for  the  purpose  of  preparing 
the  potatoes  for  planting. 

Some  forty  women  were  hired  to  come  over  from 
the  islands  and  cut  potatoes  for  seed — every  “ eye  ” 
of  the  potato  making  a sprout — these  distributed 
to  them  by  the  peck,  like  other  seed. 

I recall  a fine,  bright  morning  in  May,  when  I 
was  told  that  a woman  who  had  come  over  from 
St.  Helena  in  the  night,  waited  at  the  door  to  see 
me.  I went  to  the  door  to  find  a tall,  bright-look- 
ing woman  in  a clean  dress,  with  a basket  on  her 
head,  which,  after  salutation,  she  lowered  and  held 
out  to  me.  There  was  something  over  a peck  of 
Early  Rose  potatoes  in  the  basket — in  size  from  a 
pigeon’s  to  a pullet’s  egg.  The  grateful  woman 
could  wait  no  longer  for  the  potatoes  to  grow 
85 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


larger,  but  had  dug  these,  and  had  come  ten  miles 
over  the  sea,  in  the  night,  to  bring  them  to  me  as 
a first  offering  of  food  of  her  own  raising. 

If  the  tears  fell  on  the  little  gift  as  I looked  and 
remembered,  no  one  will  wonder  or  criticise.  The 
potatoes  were  cooked  for  breakfast,  and  “ Susie 
Jane  ” was  invited  to  partake. 

The  shores  of  the  mainland  had  not  been  ex- 
empt from  the  ravages  of  the  storm  and  in  many 
instances  had  suffered  like  the  islands.  Some 
thirty  miles  above  Beaufort  was  a kind  of  planta- 
tion, with  a community  of  sixty  or  seventy  families 
of  colored  people.  The  property  was  owned  by 
two  elderly  white  ladies  who  had  not  returned  since 
driven  away  by  the  storm. 

This  village  was  reported  to  us  as  in  need  and 
demoralized,  with  no  head,  scant  of  food,  and  its 
“ ractified  ” houses  scarcely  affording  a shelter. 

A representative  mulatto  man  came  to  tell  us. 
An  inspection  was  made  and  resulted  in  this  man 
being  put  in  charge  to  build  up  the  community. 
Lumber  and  food  were  provided  and  the  people 
set  to  work  under  his  charge.  From  time  to  time 
word  came  to  us,  and  after  some  months  the  tall 
86 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 


representative  came  again.  He  had  been  asked  by 
the  people  to  come  and  bring  their  thanks  to  the 
Red  Cross  for  “ de  home,  de  gard’n,  de  pig,  and 
de  chick’n  dey  all  has  now.” 

The  thanks  they  had  emphasized  and  proved  by 
the  heavy  basket  that  Jackson  had  carefully 
brought  all  the  forty  miles.  It  contained  seventy- 
one  fresh  eggs — the  gift  of  seventy-one  families — 
being  a contribution  of  one  egg  from  each  family, 
from  the  day  or  two  previous  to  his  leaving  on  his 
mission. 

Domestic  gardens  were  a new  feature  among 
these  islanders,  whose  whole  attention  had  been  al- 
ways given  to  the  raising  of  the  renowned  “ Sea 
Island  Cotton,”  the  pride  of  the  market,  and  a 
just  distinction  to  themselves  and  the  worthy 
planter.  The  result  of  this  innovation  was  that, 
when  we  left  in  July,  it  was  nearly  as  difficult  for 
a pedestrian  to  make  his  way  on  the  narrow  side- 
walks of  Beaufort  because  of  piled-up  vegetables 
for  sale  from  the  islands,  as  it  had  been  in  October 
to  pass  through  the  streets  because  of  hungry,  idle 
men  and  women. 

Nothing  better  illustrates  the  native  good  heart 

87 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


of  these  people  than  their  kindly  interest  in  and 
for  each  other.  Often  the  young  men,  without 
families,  would  club  together  and  put  up  a house 
for  some  lone  old  “ auntie,”  who  had  neither  family 
nor  home,  and  occasionally  there  seemed  to  develop 
among  them  an  active  philanthropist.  Of  this 
type  was  Jack  Owens,  who  rebuilt  his  own  “ done 
gone  ” premises.  One  day  as  the  field  agent  was 
driving  out  on  some  inspection  he  met  Jack  walk- 
ing into  town. 

His  decrepit  neighbor’s  house  had  burned  a few 
weeks  before,  and  Jack  had  gotten  lumber  and  re- 
built the  house  himself.  In  describing  the  utter 
devastation,  Jack  explained  that  66  all  de  house  and 
de  well  was  burned  ” — and  he  had  built  another 
house  and  was  coming  in  on  foot  “ for  funituh  to 
funish  it.”  Jack  had  lost  his  ox,  “ a big  ox,”  he 
said,  in  the  storm,  and  now  he  “ hadn’t  any  nuther  ” 
to  plow  his  ground.  He  pleaded  for  another — if 
it  was  only  “ a lil’  critter  it  would  grow  big  ” — and 
it  would  help  him  so  much. 

The  appeal  was  not  to  be  resisted.  Dr.  Hubbell 
treasures  to  this  day  the  satisfaction  he  felt  in 
procuring  something  better  than  the  64  lil’  critter  ” 
88 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 


as  reward  and  encouragement  for  Jack’s  active 
philanthropy. 

If  any  practical  woman  reading  this  should  try 
to  comprehend  what  it  would  be  to  undertake  to 
clothe  and  keep  clothed  thirty  thousand  human 
beings  for  a year,  and  to  do  this  from  the  charitable 
gifts  of  the  people,  which  gifts  had  all  done  more 
or  less  service  before — often  pretty  thoroughly 
“ ractified  ” — this  woman  will  not  wonder  that  sew- 
ing societies  suggested  themselves  to  us  at  head- 
quarters. 

The  women  were  called  together  and  this  sug- 
gestion made  to  them,  with  the  result  that  an  old 
time  “ sewing  circle  ” was  instituted  in  every  com- 
munity. Its  membership,  officers,  dues,  and  regu- 
lations were  properly  established — one-half  day  in 
each  week  devoted  by  each  member  to  the  work  in 
its  sewing-rooms,  with  a woman  in  charge  to  pre- 
pare it.  The  clothing  was  given  out  to  them  as 
received  by  us.  Many  a basket  came  proudly  back 
to  show  us  the  difference  between  “ den  an’  now  ” — 
good,  strong,  firmly  mended  garments.  Ragged 
coats  and  pants  disappeared  from  among  the  men, 
as  no  longer  “ ’spectable  fo’  de  fambly.” 

7 89 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


Provision  was  also  made  that  the  little  girls  from 
ten  years  old  should  attend  and  be  taught  to  sew. 
Many  a little  dress  was  selected  at  headquarters 
for  them  to  make  over  or  repair. 

I wish  I could  do  fitting  justice  to  the  band  of 
women  volunteers  who  stood  by  me  through  those 
long  months.  Some  had  commenced  with  me  when 
society  belles,  years  before,  now  mistresses  of  their 
own  palatial  homes;  some  had  come  from  under  the 
old  historic  elms  of  Boston,  and  some  from  the  hard- 
fought  fields  of  Britain’s  Africa,  and  wearing  the 
Victoria  Cross.  To  them,  white  and  black  were 
the  same,  and  no  toil  too  hard  or  too  menial. 

The  money  contributed  and  received  for  the 
entire  relief  of  ten  months  was  thirty  thousand  five 
hundred,  and  a few  additional  dollars  and  cents 
which  I do  not  at  this  moment  recall.  It  aggre- 
gated one  dollar  apiece  for  the  entire  maintenance 
of  thirty  thousand  persons  for  ten  months. 

It  is  the  general  custom  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try for  the  merchants  to  furnish  supplies  to  their 
patrons,  and  wait  until  the  gathering  of  the  crops 
for  their  pay.  But  when  we  left  these  people  at 
the  beginning  of  their  harvest,  not  one  family  in 
90 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 


twenty-five  had  contracted  a debt  for  supplies:  an 
experience  before  unknown  in  their  history. 

A report  was  made  and  passed  into  the  hands  of 
our  legal  counsellor,  who,  on  seeing  that  no  change 
could  be  truthfully  made  in  it,  advised  that  it  be 
not  published,  as  no  one  would  believe  it  possible 
to  be  done,  and  we  would  get  only  distrust  and  dis- 
credit. Having  now  come  to  a pass  where  distrust 
and  discredit  are  no  longer  to  be  feared  by  the  Red 
Cross,  we  ourselves  are  free  to  make  the  statement. 
But  back  of  the  hard  facts  there  is  compensation. 

A half  dozen  years  later,  when  our  negro 
proteges  of  the  Sea  Islands  heard  of  the  disaster 
that  had  fallen  upon  Galveston,  they  at  once 
gathered  for  aid  and  sent  in  their  contributions. 

66  ’Cause  dey  suffers  like  we  did,  and  de  Red 
Cross  is  dar,”  they  said. 

Of  course  I would  not  permit  one  dollar  of  this 
holy  gift  to  Galveston  to  go  to  other  than  the 
hands,  hard,  bony,  and  black — such  as  had  raised 
it  in  their  penury.  I also  wanted  it  to  do  more. 
Searching  for  the  most  reliable  colored  people  in 
the  city  I found  in  the  superintendent  of  the 
colored  schools  a man  who  had  occupied  that  place 
91 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


for  many  years,  and  who  had  the  respect  and  con- 
fidence of  the  people  of  Galveston.  I asked  him 
to  consult  his  foremost  women  teachers,  and  if  it 
pleased  them,  to  form  a society  and  fit  themselves 
to  receive  a little  money. 

In  about  a week  he  appeared  with  his  deputa- 
tion. I informed  them  that  I had  a little  money 
from  their  own  people  of  the  Sea  Islands  for  them; 
that  they  had  been  chosen  to  receive  it,  because  as 
teachers  of  the  children  they  would  have  access  to 
the  needs  and  conditions  of  the  families.  I told 
them  that  I had  desired  to  do  more  than  merely 
make  a gift  for  distribution.  I wished  to  plant  a 
tree.  I could  have  given  them  their  peach,  which 
they  would  eat,  enjoy,  and  throw  the  pit  away. 
But  I wished  them  to  plant  the  pit,  and  let  it  raise 
other  fruit  for  them,  and  for  that  reason  I had 
asked  the  formation  of  this  society. 

They  all  sat  quiet  a few  moments,  the  tears  were 
on  their  faces.  At  length  their  president,  the 
school  superintendent,  spoke  for  them: 

“ Miss  Barton,”  he  said,  66  we  all  appreciate 
this,  and  in  the  name  of  all  I promise  you  that  the 
pit  shall  be  reverently  planted,  and  I trust  the  time 
92 


THE  SEA  ISLAND  RELIEF 


will  come  when  I can  tell  you  that  our  tree  is  not 
only  bearing  fruit  for  ourselves,  but  for  all  suf- 
fering brethren,  as  theirs  have  done  for  us.” 

I then  handed  them  the  check  for  $397.  The 
moment  seemed  sacred  when  these  poor  dark  figures, 
struggling  toward  the  light,  walked  out  of  my 
presence.  The  pit  has  been  successfully  planted 
in  Galveston,  and  we  are  from  time  to  time  informed 
of  its  bearing. 


VII 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 
1896 

Leaving  the  Port  Royal  field  past  midsummer 
of  1894,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  a year — at  a 
day’s  notice — the  remainder  of  the  autumn  and 
winter  was  scarcely  less  occupied  in  the  details 
which  had  been  unavoidably  overlooked.  Before 
spring  our  correspondence  commenced  to  enlarge 
with  rumors  of  Armenian  massacres,  and  so  ex- 
cited and  rapid  was  the  increase  that,  so  far  as 
actual  labor,  consultation,  and  thought  were  con- 
cerned, we  might  as  well  have  been  on  a field  of 
relief. 

Unfortunately,  the  suspicions  of  the  Turkish 
Government  had  fallen  upon  the  resident  mission- 
aries, both  English  and  American,  as  favoring  the 
views  and  efforts  of  its  anarchistic  population,  or 
the  66  young  Turks,”  as  they  were  designated. 
This  had  the  effect  of  placing  the  missionaries  in 
danger,  confining  them  strictly  to  their  own  quar- 
94 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


ters,  preventing  all  communication  and  the  receiv-' 
ing  of  any  funds  sent  them  from  abroad. 

England  had  a large  waiting  fund  which  it 
could  not  distribute,  and  appealed  to  the  Amer- 
ican Missionary  Boards  of  Boston  and  New  York, 
to  find  them  equally  powerless.  The  need  of  funds 
among  the  missionaries  throughout  Turkey  was 
getting  painfully  urgent,  and  as  a last  resort  it 
was  suggested  from  Constantinople  that  the  Red 
Cross  be  asked  to  open  the  way. 

A written  request  from  the  Rev.  Judson  Smith, 
D.D.,  of  Boston,  was  nearly  identical  with  one 
received  by  us  from  Mr.  Spencer  Trask,  of  New 
York,  who  with  others  was  about  to  form  a national 
Armenian  relief  committee,  to  be  established  in 
that  city. 

Following  these  communications,  both  of  these 
eminent  gentlemen,  Mr.  Smith  and  Mr.  Trask, 
came  in  person  to  urge  our  compliance  with  their 
request  that  the  Red  Cross  accept  the  charge  and 
personally  undertake  the  doubtful  and  dangerous 
task  of  distributing  the  waiting  funds  among  the 
missionaries  in  Turkey. 

As  Mr.  Trask  was  to  take  the  lead  in  the  forma- 

95 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


tion  of  a committee  for  the  raising  of  funds,  his 
interest  was  naturally  paramount,  and  his  argu- 
ments in  favor  of  our  acceptance  were  wellnigh 
irresistible.  Immediate  action  on  the  part  of  some 
one  was  imperative.  Human  beings  were  starving, 
and  could  not  be  reached.  Thousands  of  towns 
and  villages  had  not  been  heard  from  since  the 
massacres,  and  only  the  Red  Cross  could  have  any 
hope  of  reaching  them.  No  one  else  was  prepared 
for  field  work;  it  had  its  force  of  trained  field 
workers.  Turkey  was  one  of  the  signatory  powers 
to  the  Red  Cross  Treaty.  Thus  it  was  hoped  and 
believed  that  she  would  the  more  readily  accept 
its  presence. 

These  are  mere  examples  of  the  reasons  urged 
by  the  ardent  advocates  of  the  proposed  com- 
mittee, until  at  length  we  came  to  consider  its 
acceptance,  on  conditions  which  must  be  clearly 
understood.  First,  we  must  not  be  expected  to 
take  any  part  in,  or  to  be  made  use  of,  in  the  rais- 
ing of  funds — one  of  our  fundamental  rules  being 
never  to  ask  for  funds — we  did  not  do  it  for 
ourselves. 

Second,  there  must  be  perfect  unanimity  be- 

96 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


tween  themselves.  We  must  be  assured  that  every 
one  wanted  us  to  go.  Our  part  would  be  hard 
enough  then ; and  finally  we  must  be  sure  they  had 
some  funds  to  distribute. 

Of  the  amount  of  these  funds  no  mention  was 
made  by  us,  and  I remember  a feeling  of  good- 
natured  amusement  as  I heard  the  officers  of  this 
untried  effort  at  raising  funds  speak  of  “ mil- 
lions.” It  was  easy  to  discern  that  they  were  more 
accustomed  to  the  figures  of  a banking  establish- 
ment than  a charity  organization  dependent  on 
the  raising  of  funds.  They  were  likely  to  be  dis- 
appointed. In  reality,  the  amount,  so  there  were 
something  to  go  with,  made  very  little  difference 
to  us,  as  we.  were  merely  to  place  what  was  entrusted 
to  us  where  most  needed,  and  when  that  was  done 
we  had  but  to  return.  We  never  named  any 
amount  as  preferable  to  us. 

The  means  resorted  to  in  raising  the  funds  were 
unfortunate.  In  the  great  public  meetings  called 
for  that  purpose  the  utmost  indiscretion  prevailed 
in  regard  to  language  applied  to  Turkey  and  the 
Turkish  Government.  This  aroused  the  indigna- 
tion of  the  Turkish  officials,  who  very  reasonably 
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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


took  measures  to  have  our  entrance  into  Turkey 
forbidden. 

A date  of  sailing,  however,  had  been  given  Mr. 
Trask,  and  his  committee,  feeling  that  any  change 
would  be  detrimental  to  their  efforts,  no  change 
was  made,  and  we  sailed  on  time,  to  find  in  Eng- 
land no  permission,  and  further  efforts  necessary. 
With  time  and  patience  the  troublesome  effects  of 
these  mistakes  were  overcome,  and  Constantinople 
was  reached,  and  a heavenly  welcome  by  the 
harassed  missionaries  awaited  us. 

The  first  step  was  to  procure  an  introduction  to 
the  Turkish  Government,  which  had  in  one  sense 
refused  to  see  me.  Accompanied  by  the  American 
Minister,  Hon.  A.  W.  Terrell,  and  his  premier  in- 
terpreter, Gargiulo,  one  of  the  most  experienced 
diplomatic  officers  in  Constantinople,  I called  by 
appointment  upon  Tewfik  Pasha,  the  Turkish 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  or  Minister  of  State. 
To  those  conversant  with  the  personages  connected 
with  Turkish  affairs,  I need  not  say  that  Tewfik 
Pasha  is  probably  the  foremost  man  of  the  gov- 
ernment— a manly  man,  with  a kind,  fine  face,  and 
genial,  polished  manners.  Educated  abroad,  with 
98 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


advanced  views  on  general  subjects,  he  impresses 
one  as  a man  who  would  sanction  no  wrong  it  was 
in  his  power  to  avert. 

Mr.  Terrell’s  introduction  was  most  appropriate 
and  well  expressed,  bearing  with  strong  emphasis 
upon  the  suffering  condition  of  the  people  of  the 
interior,  in  consequence  of  the  massacres,  the  great 
sympathy  of  the  people  of  America,  and  giving 
assurance  that  our  objects  were  purely  humani- 
tarian, having  neither  political,  racial,  nor  religious 
significance. 

The  Pasha  listened  most  attentively  to  Mr.  Ter- 
rell, thanked  him,  and  said  that  this  was  well  under- 
stood, that  they  knew  the  Red  Cross  and  its  presi- 
dent. Turning  to  me  he  repeated : “ We  know  you, 
Miss  Barton ; have  long  known  you  and  your  work. 
We  would  like  to  hear  your  plans  for  relief  and 
what  you  desire.” 

I proceeded  to  state  our  plans  for  relief,  which, 
if  not  carried  out  at  this  time,  the  suffering  in 
Armenia,  unless  we  had  been  misinformed,  would 
shock  the  entire  civilized  world.  None  of  us  knew 
from  personal  observation,  as  yet,  the  full  need  of 
assistance,  but  had  reason  to  believe  it  very  great. 

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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


If  my  agents  were  permitted  to  go,  such  need  as 
they  found  they  would  be  prompt  to  relieve.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  they  did  not  find  the  need  exist- 
ing there,  none  would  leave  the  field  so  gladly  as 
they.  There  would  be  no  respecting  of  persons — 
humanity  alone  would  be  their  guide.  4<  We  have,” 
I added,  66  brought  only  ourselves ; no  correspon- 
dent has  accompanied  us,  and  we  shall  have  none, 
and  shall  not  go  home  to  write  a book  on  Turkey. 
We  are  not  here  for  that.  Nothing  shall  be  done 
in  any  concealed  manner.  All  dispatches  which  we 
send  will  go  openly  through  your  own  telegraph, 
and  I should  be  glad  if  all  that  we  shall  write 
could  be  seen  by  your  government.  I can  not,  of 
course,  say  what  its  character  will  be,  but  can 
vouch  for  its  truth,  fairness,  and  integrity,  and 
for  the  conduct  of  every  leading  man  who  shall  be 
sent.  I shall  never  counsel  or  permit  a sly  or  under- 
hand action  with  your  government,  and  you  will 
pardon  me,  Pasha,  if  I say  I shall  expect  the  same 
treatment  in  return — such  as  I give  I shall  expect 
to  receive.” 

Almost  without  a breath  he  replied:  “And  you 
shall  have  it.  We  honor  your  position  and  your 
100 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


wishes  shall  be  respected.  Such  aid  and  protection 
as  we  are  able,  we  shall  render.” 

I then  asked  if  it  were  necessary  for  me  to  see 
other  officials.  “ No,”  he  replied,  “ I speak  for 
my  government,”  and  with  cordial  good  wishes  our 
interview  closed. 

I never  spoke  personally  with  this  gentleman 
again,  all  further  business  being  officially  trans- 
acted through  the  officers  of  our  legation.  Yet  I 
can  truly  say,  as  I have  said  of  my  first  meeting 
with  our  matchless  band  of  missionary  workers, 
that  here  commenced  an  acquaintance  which  proved 
invaluable,  and  here  were  given  pledges  of  mutual 
faith,  of  which  not  a word  was  ever  broken  on 
either  side. 

The  Turkish  Government,  when  once  it  came  to 
understand  American  methods  and  enthusiasm, 
was  forgiving  and  kind  to  us.  No  obstruction  was 
ever  placed  in  our  way.  Our  five  expeditions 
passed  through  Armenian  Turkey  from  sea  to  sea, 
distributing  whatever  was  needed,  repairing  the 
destroyed  machines,  enabling  the  people  to  make 
tools  to  harvest  their  grain,  thus  averting  a fam- 
ine; providing  medical  help  and  food  as  well  for 
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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


thousands  of  sick;  setting  free  the  frightened  in- 
habitants, and  returning  them  to  the  villages  from 
which  they  had  fled  for  their  lives;  restoring  all 
missionary  freedom  that  had  been  interrupted ; 
establishing  a more  kindly  feeling  toward  them  on 
the  part  of  the  government;  and  through  all  this, 
we  had  never  one  unpleasant  transaction  with  any 
person  of  whatever  name  or  race. 

While  our  expeditions  were  getting  ready  to  go 
out  by  the  Black  Sea,  a request  was  brought  to 
me  by  Dr.  Washburn,  of  Robert  College,  from  Sir 
Philip  Currie,  the  British  Ambassador  at  Con- 
stantinople, asking  if  I could  not  be  “ persuaded  55 
to  turn  my  expedition  through  the  Mediterranean, 
rather  than  the  Black  Sea,  in  order  to  reach  Mirash 
and  Zeitoun,  where  the  foreign  consuls  were  at  the 
moment  convened.  They  had  gotten  word  to  him 
that  ten  thousand  people  in  those  two  cities  were 
down  with  four  distinct  epidemics — typhoid  and 
typhus  fevers,  dysentery  and  smallpox — that  the 
victims  were  dying  in  overwhelming  numbers,  and 
that  there  was  not  a physician  among  them,  all  be- 
ing either  sick  or  dead,  with  no  medicine  and  little 
food. 


102 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


This  was  not  a case  for  66  persuasion,”  but  of 
heartfelt  thanks  from  us  all,  that  Sir  Philip  had 
remembered  to  call  us,  whom  he  had  never  met. 
But  here  was  a hindrance.  The  only  means  of  con- 
veyance from  Constantinople  to  Alexandretta  were 
coasting  boats,  belonging  to  different  nationalities, 
which  left  only  once  in  two  weeks,  and  irregularly 
at  that.  Transport  for  our  goods  was  secured  on 
the  first  boat  to  leave,  the  goods  taken  to  the  wharf 
at  Galata,  and  at  the  latest  moment,  in  order  to 
give  time,  a request  was  made  to  the  government 
for  teskeres , or  traveling  permits,  for  Dr.  J.  B. 
Hubbell  and  assistants.  To  our  surprise  they  were 
granted  instantly,  but  by  some  delay  on  the  part 
of  the  messenger  sent  for  them  they  reached  a mo- 
ment too  late.  The  boat  left  a little  more 
promptly,  taking  with  it  our  relief  goods,  and 
leaving  the  men  on  the  dock  to  receive  their  permits 
only  when  the  boat  was  beyond  recall.  It  was 
really  the  fault  of  no  one. 

With  the  least  possible  delay  Dr.  Hubbell  se- 
cured passage  by  the  first  boat  at  Smyrna,  and  a 
fortunate  chance  boat  from  there  took  him  to 
Alexandretta,  via  Beyrout  and  Tripoli,  Syria. 
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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


The  goods  arrived  in  safety,  and  two  other  of  our 
assistants,  whom  we  had  called  by  cable  from 
America — Edward  M.  Wistar  and  Charles  King 
Wood — were  also  passed  over  to  the  same  point 
with  more  goods.  There,  caravans  were  fitted  out 
to  leave  over  the — to  them — unknown  track  to 
Aintab,  as  a first  base.  From  this  point  the  reports 
of  these  three  gentlemen  made  to  me  will  be  living 
witnesses.  They  tell  their  own  modest  tales  of  ex- 
posure, severe  travel,  hard  work,  and  hardship,  of 
which  no  word  of  complaint  has  ever  passed  their 
lips.  There  have  been  only  gratitude  and  joy,  that 
they  could  do  something  in  a cause  at  once  so  great 
and  so  terrible. 

While  this  was  in  progress,  a dispatch  came  to 
me  at  Constantinople  from  Dr.  Shepard  of  Aintab, 
whose  tireless  hands  had  done  the  work  of  a score 
of  men,  saying  that  fevers,  both  typhoid  and  ty- 
phus, of  the  most  virulent  nature,  had  broken  out 
in  Arabkir,  two  or  three  days  north  of  Harpoot; 
could  I send  doctors  and  help?  Passing  the  word 
on  to  Dr.  Hubbell  at  Harpoot,  prompt  and  cour- 
ageous action  was  taken  by  him.  It  is  something 
to  say  that  from  a rising  pestilence  with  a score  of 
104 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


deaths  daily,  in  five  weeks,  himself  and  his  assist- 
ants left  the  city  in  a normally  healthful  condi- 
tion, the  mortality  ceasing  at  once  under  their  care 
and  treatment. 

During  this  time  the  medical  relief  for  the 
cities  of  Zeitoun  and  Marash  was  in  charge  of  Dr. 
Ira  Harris,  of  Tripoli,  who  reached  there  March 
18th.  The  report  of  the  consuls  had  placed  the 
number  of  deaths  from  the  four  contagious  dis- 
eases at  one  hundred  a day.  This  would  be  quite 
probable  when  it  is  considered  that  ten  thousand 
were  smitten  with  the  prevailing  diseases,  and  that 
added  to  this  were  the  crowded  condition  of  the 
patients,  the  thousands  of  homeless  refugees  who 
had  flocked  from  their  forsaken  villages,  the  lack 
of  all  comforts,  of  air,  cleanliness,  and  a state  of 
prolonged  starvation. 

Dr.  Harris’s  first  report  to  me  was  that  he  was 
obliged  to  set  the  soup  kettles  boiling  and  feed  his 
patients  before  medicine  could  be  retained.  My 
reply  was  a draft  for  two  hundred  liras  (something 
over  eight  hundred  dollars)  with  the  added  dis- 
patch : “ Keep  the  pot  boiling ; let  us  know  your 
wants.”  The  further  reports  show  from  this  time 
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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


an  astonishingly  small  number  of  deaths.  The  ut- 
most care  was  taken  by  all  our  expeditions  to  pre- 
vent the  spread  of  the  contagion  and  there  is  no 
record  of  its  ever  having  been  carried  out  of  the 
cities,  wThere  it  was  found,  either  at  Zeitoun, 
Marash,  or  Arabkir.  Lacking  this  precaution,  it 
might  well  have  spread  throughout  all  Asia  Minor, 
as  was  greatly  feared  by  the  anxious  people. 

On  the  twenty-fourth  of  May,  Dr.  Harris  re- 
ported the  disease  as  overcome.  His  stay  being  no 
longer  needed,  he  returned  to  his  great  charge  in 
Tripoli,  with  the  record  of  a medical  wTork  and 
success  behind  him  never  surpassed  if  ever  equaled. 
The  lives  he  had  saved  were  enough  to  gain 
Heaven’s  choicest  diadem.  Never  has  America 
cause  to  be  more  justly  proud  and  grateful  than 
when  its  sons  and  daughters  in  foreign  lands  per- 
form deeds  of  worth  like  that. 

The  closing  of  the  medical  fields  threw  our  en- 
tire force  into  the  general  relief  of  the  vilayet  of 
Harpoot,  which  the  relieving  missionaries  had  well 
named  their  “ bottomless  pit.” 

The  apathy  to  which  the  state  of  utter  nothing- 
ness, together  with  their  grief  and  fear,  had  re- 
106 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


duced  the  inhabitants,  was  by  no  means  the  smallest 
difficulty  to  be  overcome.  Here  was  realized  the 
great  danger  felt  by  all — that  of  continued  alms- 
giving, lest  they  settle  down  into  a condition  of 
pauperism,  and  thus  finally  starve,  from  the  in- 
ability of  the  world  at  large  to  feed  them.  The 
presence  of  a strange  body  of  friendly  working 
people,  coming  thousands  of  miles  to  help  them, 
awakened  a hope  and  stimulated  the  desire  to  help 
themselves. 

It  was  a new  experience  that  these  strangers 
dared  to  come  to  them.  Although  the  aforetime 
home  lay  a heap  of  stone  and  sand,  and  nothing 
belonging  to  it  remained,  still  the  land  was  there, 
and  when  seed  to  plant  the  ground  and  the  farming 
utensils  and  cattle  were  brought  to  work  it  with, 
the  faint  spirit  revived,  the  weak,  hopeless  hands 
unclasped,  and  the  farmer  stood  on  his  feet  again. 

When  the  cities  could  no  longer  provide  the 
spades,  hoes,  plows,  picks  and  shovels,  and  the  crude 
iron  and  steel  to  make  these  was  purchased  and 
taken  to  them,  the  blacksmith  found  again  his  fire 
and  forge  and  traveled  weary  miles  with  his  bel- 
lows on  his  back.  The  carpenter  again  swung  his 
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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


hammer  and  drew  his  saw.  The  broken  and  scat- 
tered spinning-wheels  and  looms  from  under  the 
storms  and  debris  of  winter  again  took  form  and 
motion,  and  the  fresh  bundles  of  wool,  cotton,  flax, 
and  hemp  in  the  waiting  widow’s  hand  brought 
hopeful  visions  of  the  revival  of  industries  which 
should  not  only  clothe  but  feed. 

At  length,  in  early  June,  the  great  grain-fields 
of  Diarbekir,  Farkin,  and  Harpoot  valleys, 
planted  the  year  before,  grew  golden  and  bowed 
their  heavy  spear-crowned  heads  in  waiting  for  the 
sickle.  But  no  sickles  were  there,  no  scythes,  not 
even  knives.  It  was  a new  and  sorry  sight  for  our 
full-handed  American  farming  men  to  see  those 
poor,  hard  Asiatic  hands  trying,  by  main  strength, 
to  break  the  tough  straw  or  pull  it  by  the  roots. 
This  state  of  things  could  not  continue,  and  their 
sorrow  and  pity  gave  place  to  joy  when  they  were 
able  to  drain  the  cities  of  Harpoot  and  Diarbekir 
of  harvest  tools,  and  turned  the  work  of  all  the 
village  blacksmiths  on  to  the  manufacture  of 
sickles  and  scythes,  and  of  flint  workers  upon  the 
rude  threshing  machines. 

They  have  told  me  since  their  return  that  the 

108 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


pleasantest  memories  left  to  them  were  of  those 
great  valleys  of  golden  grain,  bending  and  falling 
before  the  harvesters,  men  and  women,  each  with 
the  new,  sharp  sickle  or  scythe,  the  crude  threshing 
planks,  the  cattle  trampling  out  the  grain,  and  the 
gleaners  in  the  rear  as  in  the  days  of  Abraham  and 
Moab.  God  grant  that  somewhere  among  them 
was  a kind-hearted  king  of  the  harvest  who  gave 
orders  to  let  some  sheaves  fall. 

Even  while  this  saving  process  was  going  on 
another  condition  no  less  imperative  arose.  These 
fields  must  be  replanted  or  starvation  must  be  sim- 
ply delayed.  Only  the  strength  of  their  old-time 
teams  of  oxen  could  break  up  the  hard  sod  and 
prepare  for  the  fall  sowing.  Not  an  animal — ox, 
cow,  horse,  goat,  or  sheep — had  been  left.  All  had 
been  driven  to  the  Kourdish  Mountains.  When 
Mr.  Wood’s  telegram  came,  calling  for  a thou- 
sand oxen  for  the  hundreds  of  villages,  I thought 
of  our  not  rapidly  swelling  bank  account,  and  all 
that  was  needed  everywhere  else,  and  replied  ac- 
cordingly. 

When  in  return  came  the  telegram  from  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Gates,  president  of  Harpoot  College,  the 
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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


live,  active,  practical  man  of  affairs,  whose  judg- 
ment no  one  could  question,  saying  that  the  need 
of  oxen  was  imperative,  that  unless  the  ground 
could  be  plowed  before  it  dried  and  hardened  it 
could  not  be  done  at  all,  and  the  next  harvest 
would  be  lost,  also  that  “ Mr.  Wood’s  estimate  was 
moderate,”  the  financial  secretary  was  directed 
to  send  a draft  for  five  thousand  liras  (twenty -two 
thousand  dollars)  to  the  care  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Gates,  to  be  divided  among  the  three  expeditions 
for  the  purchase  of  cattle  and  the  progress  of  the 
harvest  of  1897. 

As  the  sum  sent  would  be  immediately  applied, 
the  active  services  of  the  men  would  be  no  longer 
required,  and  directions  went  with  the  remittance 
to  report  in  person  at  Constantinople. 

Unheard-of  toil,  care,  hard  riding  day  and 
night,  with  risk  of  life,  were  all  involved  in  the 
carrying  out  of  that  order.  Among  the  uncivilized 
and  robber  bands  of  Kourds,  the  cattle  that  had 
been  stolen  and  driven  off  must  be  picked  up,  pur- 
chased, and  brought  back  to  the  waiting  farmer’s 
field.  There  were  routes  so  dangerous  that  a 
brigand  chief  was  selected  by  those  understanding 
110 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


the  situation  as  the  safest  escort  for  our  men.  Per- 
haps the  greatest  danger  encountered  was  in  the 
region  of  Farkin,  beyond  Diarbekir,  where  the 
official  escort  had  not  been  waited  for,  and  the 
leveled  musket  of  the  faithless  guide  told  the  dif- 
ference. 

At  length  the  task  was  accomplished.  One  by 
one  the  expeditions  closed  and  withdrew,  returning 
by  Sivas  and  Samsoun,  and  coming  out  by  the 
Black  Sea.  With  the  return  of  the  expeditions  we 
closed  the  field.  But  contributors  would  be  glad 
to  know  that  subsequent  to  this,  before  leaving 
Constantinople,  funds  from  both  the  New  York 
and  Boston  committees  came  to  us  amounting  to 
about  fifteen  thousand  dollars.  This  was  happily 
placed  with  Mr.  W.  W.  Peet,  treasurer  of  the 
Board  of  Foreign  Missions  at  Stamboul,  to  be 
used  subject  to  our  order;  and  with  our  concur- 
rence it  was  employed  in  the  building  of  little 
houses  in  the  interior,  as  a winter  shelter  and  pro- 
tection, where  all  had  been  destroyed. 

The  appearance  of  our  men  on  their  arrival  at 
Constantinople  confirmed  the  impression  that  they 
had  not  been  recalled  too  soon.  They  had  gone 
111 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


out  through  the  snows  and  ice  of  winter,  and  with- 
out change  or  rest  had  come  back  through  the 
scorching  suns  of  midsummer — five  months  of 
rough,  uncivilized  life,  faring  and  sharing  with 
their  beasts  of  burden,  well-nigh  out  of  communi- 
cation with  the  civilized  world,  but  never  out  of 
danger.  It  seemed  but  just  to  themselves  and  to 
others  who  might  need  them,  that  change  and  rest 
be  given  them. 

It  would  scarcely  be  permissible  to  express  in 
words  the  obligation  to  our  American  Minister, 
Hon.  A.  W.  Terrell,  at  Constantinople,  without 
whose  unremitting  care  and  generous  aid  our  work 
could  not  have  been  accomplished.  And,  indeed, 
so  many  were  the  duties  of  that  difficult  and  deli- 
cate field  that  it  seemed  the  help  of  no  one  hand 
or  heart  could  be  spared.  We  felt  that  we  had 
them  all;  from  the  palace  of  the  Sultan  to  beloved 
Robert  College,  from  the  American  Legation  to 
the  busy  rooms  of  the  American  Board,  with  its 
masterly  treasurer,  Peet,  were  the  same  out- 
stretched hands  of  protection  and  care  for  our  little 
band. 

They  knew  we  had  taken  our  lives  in  our  hands 

112 


ARMENIAN  RELIEF 


to  come  to  them,  and  with  no  thought  of  ourselves. 
We  had  done  the  best  we  knew  to  accomplish  the 
mission  so  persistently  sought  of  us  in  our  own 
country. 

That  our  work  had  been  acceptable  to  those  who 
received  its  results,  we  knew.  They  had  never 
failed  to  make  us  know.  If  also  acceptable  to  Him 
who  gave  us  the  courage,  protection,  and  strength 
to  perform  it,  we  need  care  for  little  more. 

Funds  to  the  total  amount  of  $116,326.01  were 
cabled  us  by  Mr.  Spencer  Trask’s  committee,  all 
of  which  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  W.  W. 
Peet,  treasurer  of  the  missionary  board  at  Con- 
stantinople. All  proper  receipts  were  given  and 
taken,  and  feeling  that  we  had  faithfully  and  suc- 
cessfully accomplished  the  work  we  had  been  asked 
to  perform,  we  closed  the  field,  and  prepared  to 
return  to  America. 

Some  days  of  physical  rest  were  needful  for  the 
men  of  the  expeditions  after  reaching  Constanti- 
nople before  commencing  their  journey  of  thou- 
sands of  miles  for  home,  worn  as  they  were  by  ex- 
posure and  incessant  labor — physical  and  mental. 
I need  not  attempt  to  say  with  what  gratitude  I 
113 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


welcomed  back  these  weary,  brown-faced  men  and 
officers  from  a field  so  difficult  and  so  perilous; 
none  the  less  did  the  gratitude  go  out  to  my  faith- 
ful and  capable  secretary,  who  had  toiled  early 
and  late,  never  leaving  for  a day,  striving  with 
tender  heart  that  all  should  go  well. 

And  when  the  first  greetings  were  over,  the  full 
chorus  of  manly  voices — “ Home  Again,55  “ Sweet 
Land  of  Liberty,55  “ Nearer  My  God  to  Thee  55 — 
that  rolled  out  through  the  open  windows  of  the 
Red  Cross  headquarters  in  Constantinople  fell  on 
the  listening  ears  of  Christian  and  Moslem  alike, 
and  though  the  tones  were  new  and  strange,  all 
felt  that  to  some  one,  somewhere,  they  meant  more 
than  the  mere  notes  of  music. 


114 


VIII 


CUBA 

1898 

On  our  return  to  “ civilization  ” we  were  re- 
joiced to  find  that  as  a result  of  our  three  months’ 
labors,  the  former  tumult  of  Armenia  had  died 
away  into  a peaceful  echo,  but  a new  murmur  fast 
growing  to  clamor  had  taken  its  place.  Cuba  had  en- 
tered the  ceaseless  arena  of  American,  gladiatorial, 
humanitarian  contest.  The  cruelties  of  the  recon- 
centrado  system  of  warfare  had  become  apparent, 
and  methods  of  relief  were  uppermost  in  the  minds 
of  all  persons. 

These  methods  were  twofold  and  might  well  be 
classed  under  two  distinct  heads:  those  who  for 
mere  pity’s  sake  sought  simple  relief ; those  who 
with  a further  forecast  sought  the  removal  of  a 
cause  as  well  as  its  effect,  and  46  Cuba  Libre  ” was 
its  muffled  cry.  They  asked  money  for  arms  as 
well  as  bread,  and  the  struggle  between  the  two 
115 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


held  the  country  in  a state  of  perplexed  contra- 
diction for  months  running  into  years. 

Our  great-hearted  President  asked  simple  aid 
and  was  distressed  at  the  doubtful  response.  At 
length  he  suggested  and  we  proffered  the  aid 
of  the  Red  Cross  on  a call  to  the  country,  and  the 
establishment  of  the  “ Central  Cuban  Relief  Com- 
mittee ” in  New  York,  within  three  days,  was  the 
result. 

The  activity  and  success  of  that  committee  are 
too  fresh  in  the  minds  of  all  our  people  to  require 
the  smallest  description  from  me.  Too  much 
praise  can  not  be  given  to  our  Auxiliary  Societies 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  for  the  splendid 
work  in  the  camps  at  home,  in  Cuba,  Porto  Rico, 
and  in  the  care  of  our  soldiers  in  transit  to  the 
Philippines.  Their  full  and  complete  reports  show 
the  great  work  accomplished.  The  memory  of  the 
work  of  the  busy  men  and  tireless  women  who 
joined  heart  and  hand  in  this  Heaven-sent  task 
still  brings  tears  to  the  eyes  of  a nation  at  its 
recall. 

The  service  assigned  me  by  our  anxious  Presi- 
dent, and  gladly  accepted,  was  the  distribution 

116 


CUBA 


on  the  pitiful  fields  of  Cuba.  These  scenes  I would 
not  recall.  The  starving  mothers  and  motherless 
babes,  the  homelessness  and  squalor,  the  hopeless- 
ness and  despair,  are  beyond  all  words  and  all  con- 
ception, save  to  those  who  saw  and  lived  among 
them.  It  is  past  and  let  it  rest. 

Then  followed  the  declaration  of  hostilities,  the 
blockade,  the  fleets  of  war,  and  the  stately,  glisten- 
ing white  ships  of  relief  that  dotted  the  sea — our 
navy  after  forty  years  of  peace  again  doing  serv- 
ice in  its  own  waters — and  among  them  one  incon- 
spicuous, black-hulled  sea-going  craft,  laden  with 
food  for  the  still  famishing  reconcentrados,  when 
they  could  be  reached. 

Day  after  day,  in  its  weary,  waiting  cruise,  it 
watched  out  for  an  opening  to  that  closed-in  suffer- 
ing island,  till  at  length  the  thunder  of  the  guns, 
Siboney,  San  Juan,  opened  the  track,  and  the 
wounded  troops  of  our  own  army,  hungering  on 
their  own  fields,  were  the  reconcentrados  of  the 
hour. 

Tampa  became  the  gathering-point  of  the  army. 
Its  camps  filled  like  magic,  first  with  regulars,  then 
volunteers,  as  if  the  fiery  torch  of  Duncraigen  had 
117 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


spread  over  the  hills  and  prairies  of  America.  The 
great  ships  gathered  in  the  waters,  the  transports, 
with  decks  dark  with  human  life,  passed  in  and 
out,  and  the  battleships  of  the  sea  held  ever  their 
commanding  sway.  It  seemed  a strange  thing, 
this  gathering  for  war.  Thirty  years  of  peace 
had  made  it  strange  to  all  save  the  veterans  of  the 
days  of  the  old  war,  long  passed  into  history. 
Could  it  be  possible  that  we  were  to  learn  this  anew  ? 
Were  men  again  to  fall,  and  women  weep?  Were 
the  youth  of  this  generation  to  gain  that  experience 
their  fathers  had  gained,  to  live  the  war-lives  they 
had  lived,  and  die  the  deaths  they  had  died? 

At  length  the  fleet  moved  on,  and  we  prepared 
to  move  with,  or  rather  after  it.  The  quest  on 
which  it  had  gone,  and  the  route  it  had  taken, 
bordered  something  on  the  mystery  shrouding  the 
days  when  Sherman  marched  to  the  sea.  Where 
were  the  Spanish  ships?  What  would  be  the  re- 
sult when  found  and  met?  Where  were  we  to 
break  that  Cuban  wall  and  let  us  in? 

Always  present  in  our  minds  were  the  food  we 
carried,  the  willing  hands  that  waited,  and  the 
perishing  thousands  that  needed.  We  knew  the 
118 


CUBA 


great  hospital  ships  were  fitting  for  the  care  of 
the  men  of  both  Army  and  Navy.  Surely  they 
could  have  no  need  of  us. 

We  had  taken  possession  of  our  ship  at  Key 
West  on  the  29th  of  April.  It  was  now  the  20th 
of  June  and  the  national  records  of  two  countries 
at  least  will  always  give  the  history  of  those  days. 
It  is  our  part  to  keep  as  clearly,  truthfully,  and 
kindly  as  possible,  the  record  of  the  little  that  fell 
to  us  to  perform  in  this  great  drama. 

Weighing  anchor  at  Key  West  the  State  of 
Texas  steamed  for  the  open  Caribbean,  we  having 
first  taken  the  official  advice  of  Commodore  Remy 
to  find  Admiral  Sampson  and  report  to  him. 

Sunrise  of  the  twenty-fifth  gave  us  our  first 
view  of  the  water  at  Santiago.  Our  transports 
and  battle-ships  were  gathered  there.  The  advice 
of  Admiral  Sampson  was  that  we  proceed  to  Guan- 
tanamo, where  the  marines  had  made  a landing 
and  were  camped  on  the  shore.  There  had  been 
some  fighting  at  Guantanamo.  The  naval  hospital 
ship  Solace  was  there. 

Whoever  has  enjoyed  this  quiet,  sheltered 
harbor,  protected  on  three  sides  by  beautiful 
119 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


wooded  hills,  will  not  require  to  be  reminded  of  it. 
At  six  o’clock  our  anchor  sunk  in  the  deep,  still 
waters  and  we  had  time  to  look  about  and  see  the 
beginning  of  the  war.  The  marines  were  camped 
along  the  brow  of  a hill.  On  our  right  a camp  of 
Cubans,  and  all  about  us  the  great  war-ships  with 
their  guns,  which  told  of  forthcoming  trouble. 
Captain  McCalla,  who  was  in  command  of  Guan- 
tanamo, had  sent  his  compliments  and  a launch, 
leading  us  in  to  our  place  of  anchorage.  The 
courtesies  of  the  navy  so  early  commenced  at  Key 
West  were  continued  throughout  the  war. 

By  invitation  of  Commander  Dunlap  our  en- 
tire company  visited  the  Solace  the  following  day. 
If  that  beautiful  ship  or  its  management  had  left 
room  on  the  records  of  our  country’s  meed  of 
gratitude,  for  more  words  of  appreciative  praise, 
I should  be  glad  to  speak  them.  Only  those  fa- 
miliar with  the  earliest  history  of  the  Red  Cross 
in  our  country,  and  the  methods  by  which  our 
navy  alone — of  all  the  Red  Cross  nations — had 
gained  even  an  approximately  legal  place,  can 
judge  what  the  sight  of  that  first  naval  relief  ship 
in  American  waters  was  to  me.  It  brought  back 
120 


CUBA 


so  vividly  the  memory  of  the  day  in  1881  when 
President  Arthur  called  me  to  him  to  carefully  ex- 
plain the  conditions  of  the  treaty  which  he  had 
just  signed,  and  that,  Congress  having  generously 
included  the  navy  in  its  treaty  for  war,  he  would 
provide  to  hold  it  carefully  until  the  probable 
widening  of  the  original  treaty  would  include  the 
navies  of  the  world,  as  well  as  the  armies. 

Before  the  day  closed  news  came  to  us  of  a seri- 
ous character.  The  daring  Rough  Riders  had 
been  hardly  dealt  by.  Hamilton  Fish  and  Allyn 
Capron  had  been  killed,  and  the  wounded  needed 
help.  Wherever  they  might  be,  it  must  be  possible 
to  reach  them,  and  it  was  decided  that  no  time  be 
lost.  Our  men  commenced  work  in  the  hold  of  the 
ship  to  get  at  medical  supplies  and  dressings,  and 
the  captain  took  his  orders.  I find  in  my  diary  at 
the  close  of  that  day  the  following  paragraph: 
“ It  is  the  Rough  Riders  we  go  to,  and  the  relief 
may  be  also  rough,  but  it  will  be  ready . A better 
body  of  helpers  could  scarcely  be  gotten  together.” 

Nine  o’clock  of  the  same  night  found  us  at 
Siboney,  which  can  scarcely  be  called  a harbor, 
for  it  has  no  anchorage.  The  next  morning  at  day- 
9 121 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


break  we  stood  on  deck  to  see  the  soldiers  filing  up 
over  the  hill,  in  heavy  marching  order,  forming 
in  lines  by  ones  and  twos,  winding  up,  in  and  out 
among  the  hills,  higher  and  higher.  As  we 
watched  them  they  were  a moving  line  trailing  on 
toward  the  clouds,  till  lost  in  the  mist,  and  we 
could  only  think,  as  we  looked  at  them,  on  how 
many  and  on  which,  is  set  the  mark  of  death?  He 
knew  no  more  than  we — poor  fellow — and  with  his 
swinging,  steady  gait,  toils  up  and  up  and  waits 
for — he  knows  not  what. 

The  hospitals,  both  American  and  Cuban,  lo- 
cated on  the  shore  just  to  the  right  of  us,  were 
visited  by  our  men  that  same  evening.  Some  of 
their  surgeons  called  on  us.  All  seemed  interested 
in  the  Red  Cross,  but  none  thought  that  a woman 
nurse  would  be  in  place  in  a soldiers’  hospital — 
indeed,  very  much  out  of  place.  I suggested  that 
that  decision  was  hard  for  me,  for  I had  spent  a 
great  deal  of  time  in  soldiers’  hospitals  myself. 
They  appeared  to  understand  that  perfectly,  but 
there  seemed  to  be  a later  line  which  could  not  be 
crossed. 

The  Cubans  who  had  just  come  into  camp  ex- 

122 


CUBA 


pressed  a desire  for  any  assistance  we  could  give 
them.  They  would  be  glad  to  have  the  Red  Cross 
Sisters  in  their  little  hospital,  but  begged  us  to  wait 
just  a day  until  it  could  be  put  in  better  order. 
The  Sisters  were  not  the  persons  to  grant  that  day 
of  preparation. 

On  the  contrary  they  at  once  went  to  work, 
thoroughly  cleaned  the  little  three-room  building — 
Garcia’s  abandoned  headquarters,  to  be  used  as  a 
hospital — and  when  the  day  closed  the  transforma- 
tion showed  clean  rooms,  clean  cots,  and  the  grate- 
ful occupants  wondering  whether  Heaven  itself 
could  be  more  comfortable,  or  anything  more  de- 
sirable than  the  palatable  food  prepared  for  them 
by  the  Sisters. 

Three  days  later  the  following  letter  was  re- 
ceived : 

“ To  Miss  Clara  Barton,  President, 

“ American  National  Red  Cross: 

“ I have  the  honor  to  request  your  assistance  in 
caring  for  the  patients  in  a so-called  hospital  near 
the  landing  at  this  point. 

“ The  orders  are  to  the  effect  that  all  patients 
now  under  treatment  on  the  shore  shall  be  trans- 
it 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


f erred  to  the  Iroquois  and  Olivette,  but  the 
facilities  for  carrying  out  this  order  are  appar- 
ently inadequate.  In  order  that  the  division  hos- 
pital may  remain  unhampered  for  the  care  of  the 
wounded  in  the  engagement  about  to  take  place, 
it  is  necessary  for  me  to  request  this  favor  of  you, 
and  I trust  that  you  may  find  it  possible  to  com- 
ply with  said  request. 

64  Your  obedient  servant, 

44  Louis  A.  Le  Garde, 

44  Major  and  Surgeon,  U.  S.  A.,  Commanding 
Hospital.” 

To  this  the  following  reply  was  immediately 
returned : 

44  Steamship  State  of  Texas, 

44  Siboney,  Santiago  de  Cuba,  June  30,  1898. 

44  Dr.  Louis  A.  Le  Garde, 

44  Major  and  Surgeon,  U.  S.  A.,  Commanding 
Hospital. 

44  Major:  Permit  me  to  express  the  pleasure 
given  me  by  your  letter  inviting  the  assistance  of 
the  persons  here  under  my  direction  in  the  care  of 
the  sick  and  wounded  of  the  engagement  about  to 
take  place.  Although  not  here  as  a hospital  ship 
by  any  means — not  legitimately  fitted  for  the  work 
124 


CUBA 


- — still  we  have  some  hospital  supplies,  a few  in- 
telligent workers,  skill,  experience,  the  willingness 
to  serve,  the  readiness  to  obey,  and  I believe  the  true 
spirit  of  the  Red  Cross,  that  seeks  to  help  humanity 
wherever  its  needs  exist.  I send  them  to  you  in  the 
hope  that  they  may  be  of  service. 

“ Cordially  yours, 

“ Clara  Barton, 

“ President,  American  National  Red  Cross.” 

Our  surgeons  and  assistants  went  on  shore, 
where  Dr.  Le  Garde  and  Dr.  Lesser  secured  a small 
house,  and  in  a few  hours  this  had  undergone  the 
same  transformation  and  by  the  same  hands  as  the 
Cuban  hospital.  The  Red  Cross  flag  was  hoisted, 
Dr.  Lesser  placed  in  charge,  and  scores  of  our 
soldiers  who  had  been  lying  on  the  filthy  floors  of  an 
adjacent  building,  with  no  food  but  army  rations, 
were  carried  over,  placed  in  clean  cots,  and  given 
proper  food.  From  that  on,  no  distinction  was 
made,  the  Red  Cross  flag  floating  over  both  the 
American  and  Cuban  hospitals. 

A few  feet  away,  all  the  available  army  tents 
were  put  up  as  additional  accommodation  for  the 
“ wounded  in  the  engagement  about  to  take  place.” 
125 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


It  did  take  place  the  following  day,  and,  as  will  be 
well  remembered,  in  those  two  days,  Friday  and 
Saturday,  the  first  and  second  of  July,  the  tents 
were  more  than  filled  with  wounded  in  the  battle 
of  San  Juan  Hill.  Three  of  the  five  Sisters  went 
into  the  operating  tent,  and  with  the  surgeons 
worked  for  thirty  hours  with  only  a few  moments’ 
rest  now  and  then  for  a cup  of  coffee  and  a cracker 
or  piece  of  bread.  We  heard  nothing  more  about 
a woman  nurse  being  out  of  place  in  a soldiers’ 
hospital. 

On  Saturday  evening,  the  second  day  of  the  San 
Juan  battle,  a slip  of  paper  with  these  penciled 
words  was  brought  to  the  door  of  the  hospital : 

“ Send  food,  medicines,  anything.  Seize  wagons 
from  the  front  for  transportation. 

“ Shafter.” 

The  call  for  help  was  at  once  sent  over  to  the 
State  of  Texas,  and  we  worked  all  night  getting 
out  supplies  and  sending  them  ashore  with  a force 
of  Cubans,  only  too  glad  to  work  for  food. 

I wish  I could  make  apparent  how  difficult  a 
thing  it  was  to  get  supplies  from  our  ship  to  the 
126 


CUBA 


shore  in  a surf  which,  after  ten  o’clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, allowed  no  small  boats  to  touch  even  the  bit 
of  a pier  that  was  run  out  without  breaking  either 
the  one  or  the  other,  and  nothing  in  the  form  of  a 
lighter  save  two  dilapidated  flat-boat  pontoons. 
These  had  been  broken  and  cast  away  by  the  engi- 
neer corps,  picked  up  by  ourselves,  mended  by  the 
Cubans,  and  put  in  condition  to  float  alongside  of 
our  ship,  and  receive  perhaps  three  or  four  tons 
of  material.  This  must  then  be  rowed  or  floated 
out  to  the  shore,  run  onto  the  sand  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, the  men  jumping  into  the  water  from  knee  to 
waist  deep,  pulling  the  boat  up  from  the  surf,  and 
getting  the  material  on  land.  And  this  was  what 
was  meant  by  loading  the  “ seized  wagons  from 
the  front  ” and  getting  food  to  the  wounded. 
After  ten  o’clock  in  the  day  even  this  was  impossi- 
ble, and  we  must  wait  until  the  calm  of  three 
o’clock  next  morning  to  commence  work  again  and 
go  through  the  same  struggle  to  get  something 
to  load  the  wagons  for  that  day.  Our  supplies  had 
been  gotten  ashore,  and  among  the  last,  rocking 
and  tossing  in  our  little  boat,  went  ourselves, 
landing  on  the  pier,  which  by  that  time  was  break- 

127 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


ing  in  two,  escaping  a surf  which  every  other  mo- 
ment threatened  to  envelop  one  from  feet  to  head, 
we  reached  the  land. 

Our  “ seized  ” wagons  had  already  gone  on, 
loaded  with  our  best  hospital  supplies — meal,  flour, 
condensed  milk,  malted  milk,  tea,  coffee,  sugar, 
dried  fruits,  canned  fruits,  canned  meats,  and  such 
other  things  as  we  had  been  able  to  get  out  in  the 
haste  of  packing — entirely  filling  the  two  wagons 
already  in  advance. 

An  ambulance  had  been  spoken  of.  We  waited 
a little  while  by  the  roadside,  but  the  ambulance 
did  not  appear.  Then,  halting  a wagon  loaded 
with  bales  of  hay,  we  begged  a ride  of  the  driver, 
and  our  little  party,  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Gardner,  James 
McDowell,  and  myself,  took  our  seats  on  the  hay 
and  made  our  way  to  the  front,  Dr.  Hubbell  follow- 
ing afoot.  Four  hours’  ride  brought  us  to  the 
First  Division  Hospital  of  the  Fifth  Army  Corps 
— General  Shafter’s  headquarters. 

The  sight  that  met  us  on  going  into  the  so-called 
hospital  grounds  was  something  indescribable. 
The  land  was  perfectly  level;  no  drainage  what- 
ever ; covered  with  long,  tangled  grass ; skirted  by 
128 


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trees,  brush,  and  shrubbery;  a few  little  dog-tents 
not  much  larger  than  could  have  been  made  of  an 
ordinary  table-cloth  thrown  over  a short  rail,  and 
under  these  lay  huddled  together  the  men  fresh 
from  the  field  or  from  the  operating-tables,  with 
no  covering  over  them  save  such  as  had  clung  to 
them  through  their  troubles,  and  in  the  majority 
of  cases  no  blanket  under  them. 

Those  who  had  come  from  the  tables,  having 
been  compelled  to  leave  all  the  clothing  they  had, 
as  too  wet,  muddy,  and  bloody  to  be  retained,  were 
entirely  nude,  lying  on  the  stubble  grass,  the  sun 
fitfully  dealing  with  them,  sometimes  clouding  over 
and  again  streaming  out  in  a blaze  above  them. 
Fortunately,  among  our  supplies  were  some  bolts 
of  unbleached  cotton,  and  this  we  cut  in  sheet 
lengths,  and  the  men  of  our  party  went  about  and 
covered  the  poor  fellows,  who  lay  there  with  no 
shelter  either  from  the  elements  or  the  eyes  of  the 
passers-by. 

A half  dozen  bricks  laid  about  a yard  apart, 
a couple  of  pieces  of  wagon-tire  laid  across  these, 
so  low  and  so  near  the  ground  that  no  fire  of 
any  strength  or  benefit  could  be  made — the  bits 
129 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


of  wet  wood  put  under  crosswise,  with  the  smoke 
streaming  a foot  out  on  either  side,  two  kettles  of 
coffee  or  soup,  and  a small  frying-pan  with  some 
meat  in  it — appeared  to  be  the  cook-house  for  these 
men.  They  told  us  there  were  about  eight  hundred 
men  under  the  tents  and  lying  in  the  grass,  and 
more  constantly  coming  in. 

After  a few  moments’  consultation  as  to  the  best 
methods  to  be  pursued,  we  too  gathered  stones  and 
bricks  and  constructed  a longer,  higher  fireplace, 
got  more  wagon-tires,  found  the  water,  and  soon 
our  great  agate  kettles  of  seven  and  ten  gallons 
were  filled. 

The  rain,  that  had  been  drizzling  more  or  less 
all  day,  increased.  Our  supplies  were  taken  from 
the  wagons,  a piece  of  tarpaulin  found  to  protect 
them,  and  as  the  fire  began  to  blaze  and  the  water 
to  heat,  Mrs.  Gardner  and  I found  the  way  into 
the  bags  and  boxes  of  flour,  salt,  milk,  and  meal, 
and  got  material  for  the  first  gallons  of  gruel.  I 
had  not  thought  to  ever  make  gruel  again  over  a 
camp-fire.  I can  not  say  how  far  it  carried  me 
back  in  the  lapse  of  time,  or  really  where,  or  who 
I felt  that  I was. 


130 


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It  did  not  seem  to  be  me,  and  still  I seemed  to 
know  how  to  do  it. 

When  the  bubbling  contents  of  our  kettle  thick- 
ened and  grew  white  with  the  condensed  milk,  and 
we  began  to  give  it  out — putting  it  into  the  hands 
of  men  detailed  as  nurses,  and  our  own  men,  to 
take  around  to  the  poor  sufferers,  shivering  and 
naked  in  the  rain — I felt  that  perhaps  it  was  not 
in  vain  that  history  had  repeated  itself.  When 
the  nurses  came  back  and  told  us  of  the  surprise 
with  which  it  was  received,  and  the  tears  that 
rolled  down  the  sun-burned,  often  bloody  face,  into 
the  cup  as  the  poor  fellow  drank  his  hot  gruel,  and 
asked  where  it  came  from,  who  sent  it,  and  said 
it  was  the  first  food  he  had  tasted  in  three  days 
(for  they  had  gone  into  the  fight  hungry),  I felt 
that  it  was  again  the  same  old  story  and  wondered 
what  gain  there  had  been  in  the  last  thirty  years. 

The  fires  burned,  the  gruel  steamed  and  boiled — 
bucket  after  bucket  went  out — until  those  eight 
hundred  men  had  each  a cup  of  gruel  and  knew 
that  he  could  have  another  and  as  many  as  he 
wanted.  The  day  waned,  the  darkness  came,  and 
still  the  men  were  unsheltered,  uncovered,  naked, 
131 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


and  wet — scarcely  a groan,  no  word  of  complaint 
— no  man  said  he  was  not  well  treated. 

The  operating-tables  were  full  of  the  wounded. 
Man  after  man  was  taken  off,  brought  on  his  litter 
and  laid  beside  other  men,  and  something  given 
him  to  keep  the  little  life  in  his  body  that  seemed 
fast  oozing  out.  All  night  it  went  on.  It  grew 
cold — for  naked  men  bitter  cold — before  morn- 
ing. We  had  no  blankets,  nothing  to  cover  them, 
only  the  strips  of  cotton  cloth. 

Early  in  the  morning  ambulances  started,  and 
such  of  the  wounded  as  could  be  loaded  in  were 
taken  to  be  carried  back  over  that  rough,  pitiless 
road,  down  to  Siboney,  to  the  hospitals  there — 
that  we  had  done  the  best  we  could  toward  fitting 
up — where  our  hundred  cots,  hundred  and  fifty 
blankets  had  gone,  cups,  spoons,  and  delicacies, 
that  would  help  to  strengthen  these  poor,  fainting 
men,  if  they  could  get  there,  and  where  also  the 
Sisters  would  care  for  them. 

They  brought  man  after  man,  stretcher  after 
stretcher,  to  the  waiting  ambulances,  and  they  took 
out  seventeen  who  had  died  in  the  night,  unat- 
tended, save  by  the  nurse. 

132 


CUBA 


More  supplies  arrived,  and  this  time  came 
large  tarpaulins,  more  utensils,  more  food,  and 
more  things  to  make  it  a little  comfortable.  We 
removed  our  first  kitchens  across  the  road,  up 
alongside  the  headquarter  tent  of  Major  Wood,  in 
charge  of  the  camp.  Words  can  not  do  justice  to 
his  kind-hearted  generosity.  He  strove  in  every 
way  to  do  all  that  could  be  done,  and  the  night 
before  had  given  us  a small  tent  in  which  we  had 
huddled  from  the  pouring  rain,  for  a couple  of 
hours,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  the  water  rush- 
ing through  like  a rivulet. 

The  tarpaulins  were  put  over  supplies,  a new 
fireplace  made  near  us — magnificent  in  its  dimen- 
sions— shelter  given  for  boxes  and  barrels  that  by 
this  time  had  accumulated  about  us,  and  there  was 
even  something  that  looked  like  a table,  on  which 
Mrs.  Gardner  prepared  her  delicacies. 

Early  in  the  day  there  came  to  our  improvised 
headquarters  an  officer  in  khaki  uniform  showing 
hard  service,  and  a bandanna  handkerchief  hang- 
ing from  his  hat,  to  protect  the  back  of  his  head 
and  neck  from  the  fierce  rays  of  the  sun. 

It  was  Colonel  Roosevelt,  and  we  were  very  glad 

133 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


to  meet  the  gallant  leader  of  the  44  Rough  Riders.” 
After  a few  moments  conversation  he  said: 

44  I have  some  sick  men  with  the  regiment  who 
refuse  to  leave  it.  They  need  such  delicacies  as  you 
have  here,  which  I am  ready  to  pay  for  out  of  my 
own  pocket.  Can  I buy  them  from  the  Red 
Cross?  ” 

“ Not  for  a million  dollars,”  Dr.  Gardner  re- 
plied. 

46  But  my  men  need  these  things,”  he  said,  his 
tone  and  face  expressing  anxiety.  44 1 think  a 
great  deal  of  my  men.  I am  proud  of  them.” 

44  And  we  know  they  are  proud  of  you,  Colonel. 
But  we  can’t  sell  Red  Cross  supplies,”  answered 
Dr.  Gardner. 

44  Then,  how  can  I get  them?  I must  have 
proper  food  for  my  sick  men,”  he  said. 

44  Just  ask  for  them,  Colonel,”  replied  Dr.  Gard- 
ner. 

44  Oh,”  he  said,  his  face  suddenly  lighting  up 
with  a bright  smile;  44  then  I do  ask  for  them.” 

44  All  right,  Colonel ; what  is  your  list  ? ” 

The  list  included  malted  milk,  condensed  milk, 
oatmeal,  cornmeal,  canned  fruits,  dried  fruits,  rice, 
134 


CUBA 


tea,  chocolate,  and  even  prepared  beefsteak  and 
vegetables,  and  other  things  good  for  men  who 
could  not  eat  army  rations. 

“ Now,  Colonel,  when  will  you  send  for  these 
supplies  ? ” asked  Dr.  Gardner.  “ They  will  be 
ready  any  time.” 

“ Lend  me  a sack  and  I’ll  take  them  right 
along,”  he  answered  with  characteristic  decision. 

Mrs.  Gardner  at  once  looked  up  a sack,  and 
when  filled  it  must  have  held  a good  many  pounds 
of  supplies.  Before  we  had  recovered  from  our 
surprise,  the  incident  was  closed  by  the  future 
President  of  the  United  States  slinging  the  big 
sack  over  his  shoulders,  striding  off,  and  out  of 
sight  through  the  jungle. 

The  gruel  still  remained  the  staple,  but  malted 
milk,  chocolate,  rice,  and  tea  had  come  in,  and 
little  by  little  various  things  were  added  by  which 
our  menage  quite  resembled  a hotel.  The  wounded 
were  still  being  taken  away  by  ambulance  and 
wagon,  assorted  and  picked  over  like  fruit.  Those 
who  would  bear  transportation  were  taken  away, 
the  others  left  where  they  were.  By  the  third  day 
our  patients  seemed  strong  enough  that  we  might 
135 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


risk  giving  them  food  as  solid  as  rice,  and  the  great 
kettles  were  filled  with  that,  cooked  soft,  mixed  with 
condensed  and  malted  milk.  The  number  of 
wounded  grew  less  day  by  day,  and  better  care 
could  be  taken  of  them. 

At  Siboney,  the  great  needs  of  the  hour  were 
met  by  the  little  band  of  surgeons  and  nurses, 
working  night  and  day.  The  following  is  from 
a letter  in  the  Times-Herald,  now  Record-Herald, 
of  Chicago,  by  Miss  Janet  Jennings,  who  volun- 
teered her  service  in  the  hospital.  One  gets  from 
this  simple,  direct  picture,  a better  appreciation 
of  that  heroism  which  lives  after  excitement,  which 
survives  the  rush  and  shouting  of  assault,  which 
is  sustained  without  comradeship: 

“ Siboney,  July  8,  1898. 

“ Above  hospital  tents  Red  Cross  flags  are  fly- 
ing, and  here  is  the  real  life — the  suffering  and 
heroism.  Everybody  who  can  do  even  so  little  as 
carry  a cup  of  water  lends  willing  hands  to  help  the 
wounded.  Most  of  the  wounded  are  from  the 
first  day’s  engagement,  when  the  infantry  was 
ordered  to  lead  the  attack  on  Santiago,  instead  of 
using  the  artillery. 


136 


CUBA 


“ And  it  all  came  at  once — a quick  blow — with 
little  or  no  preparation  to  meet  it.  I mentioned  in 
a former  letter  the  lack  of  preparation  on  the  part 
of  the  army  to  care  for  the  sick.  There  was  then 
almost  nothing — no  cots,  bedding  or  proper  food, 
for  less  than  one  hundred  sick  men. 

“ Two  days  later,  when  the  wounded  came  in, 
the  needs  of  the  hour  were  overwhelming.  The 
situation  can  not  be  described.  Thousands  of  our 
men  had  been  hurried  to  the  front  to  fight.  It 
was  well  understood  that  it  would  be  a hard  fight. 
The  dead  would  need  only  burial,  but  the  wounded 
would  need  care.  And  yet,  with  the  exception  of 
a limited  number  of  stretchers,  a medicine-chest 
and  a few  bandages,  no  preparation  had  been  made 
* — neither  cots  nor  food — practically  no  hospital 
supplies. 

“ It  is  not  strange  that  surgeons  were  desperate 
and  nurses  distressed.  The  force  of  each  was 
wholly  inadequate.  The  exact  number  of  wounded 
may  never  be  known.  But  the  estimate  at  this 
time  is  about  1,000  wounded — some  1,500  killed 
and  wounded. 

“ Wounded  men  who  made  their  way  down  on 
foot  eight  miles  over  the  rough,  hilly  road  will 
never  know  just  how  their  strength  held  out. 
Others  were  brought  down  in  army  wagons  by 
10  137 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


the  load,  as  few  ambulances  were  at  hand.  Fortu- 
nately, there  were  some  tents  here  that  had  been 
used  by  troops  before  going  to  the  front.  Under 
these  hay  was  spread  and  covered  with  blankets, 
and  the  improvised  hospital  was  ready.  One  tent 
was  taken  for  operating-tables,  and  the  work  of 
surgeons  and  nurses  began.  They  worked  night 
and  day  for  forty-eight  hours,  with  only  brief 
intervals  for  coffee  and  hard-tack. 

“ Wounded  men  had  to  wait  for  hours  before 
bullets  could  be  extracted  and  wounds  dressed.  But 
there  was  no  word  of  complaint — only  silent,  pa- 
tient suffering,  borne  with  a courage  that  was  sub- 
lime. As  the  wounded  continued  to  come  in,  tent- 
room  gave  out,  and  hay  with  blankets  were  placed 
outside,  and  to  these  6 beds 5 the  less  severely 
wounded  were  assigned.  It  was  evident  that  the 
medical  department  of  the  army  had  failed  abso- 
lutely to  send  hospital  supplies,  or  by  this  time 
they  would  have  been  landed.  As  it  was,  the  sur- 
geons turned  to  the  Red  Cross  ship  6 State  of 
Texas  5 for  help,  and  the  supplies  originally  in- 
tended for  the  starving  Cubans  were  sent  ashore 
for  our  wounded. 

“ Miss  Barton  had  been  urged  and  advised  to 
wait  until  the  army  opened  and  made  the  way  safe 
to  land  supplies  for  reconcentrados  and  refugees. 
138 


CUBA 


But  she  had  foreseen  the  situation  to  a certain  de- 
gree and  followed  the  army  as  quickly  as  possible — 
to  wait  for  the  emergency,  rather  than  have  the 
emergency  wait  for  her.  The  6 State  of  Texas  9 
was  here  a week  before  the  attack  on  Santiago. 

“ While  surgeons  and  nurses  were  probing  for 
bullets  and  dressing  wounds,  a force  of  men  on  the 
Red  Cross  ship  worked  half  the  night  getting  out 
cots  and  blankets,  food  and  bandages,  and  at 
daylight  next  morning  the  supplies  were  landed, 
taking  advantage  of  the  smooth  sea  between  four 
and  nine  o’clock,  as  later  in  the  day  the  high  surf 
makes  it  extremely  difficult  for  landings.  There 
were  six  tables  in  the  operating-tent  and  eight  sur- 
geons. In  twenty-four  hours  the  surgeons  had 
operated  upon  and  dressed  the  wounds  of  475  men. 
Four  Red  Cross  sisters,  trained  nurses,  assisted  the 
surgeons.  They  were  Sister  Bettina,  wife  of  Dr. 
Lesser,  surgeon-in-chief  of  the  Red  Cross ; Sister 
Minna,  Sister  Isabel,  and  Sister  Blanche.  Their 
knowledge  of  surgery,  skill,  and  nerve  were  a reve- 
lation to  the  army  surgeons.  These  young  women, 
all  under  thirty,  went  from  one  operating-table  to 
another,  and,  whatever  was  the  nature  of  the 
wound  or  complication,  proved  equal  to  the  emer- 
gency. 

“ In  the  Red  Cross  Hospital,  across  the  way, 
139 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


Sister  Anna  was  in  charge  of  the  sick  men,  turned 
over  to  the  Red  Cross  two  days  before,  when  army 
surgeons  with  troops  were  all  ordered  to  the  front. 
With  475  wounded  men  to  fe£d  there  was  not 
a camp-kettle  to  be  found  in  which  gruel  could  be 
prepared,  coffee  made  or  anything  cooked,  not  a 
kettle  of  any  sort  to  be  furnished  by  the  army. 
The  whole  camp  outfit  at  Tampa  in  the  way  of 
cooking  utensils  must  have  been  left  behind. 

“ But  there  was  an  overruling  Providence  when 
the  6 State  of  Texas  ’ was  loaded  for  Cuba.  So  far 
everything  needed  has  been  found  in  the  hold  of 
this  old  ship,  which  deserves  to  have  and  will  have 
a credit  page  in  the  history  of  the  war  in  Cuba. 
There  were  kettles,  charcoal  braziers,  and  cooking 
utensils  carried  over  to  the  Red  Cross  Hospital.  To 
prepare  gruel,  rice,  coffee,  and  various  other 
proper  and  palatable  dishes  for  forty  or  fifty  sick 
men  by  the  slow  process  of  a charcoal  brazier,  tea- 
kettle, and  boiler  is  by  no  means  easy  cooking. 
But  to  prepare  food  for  475  wounded  men,  some 
of  whom  had  had  nothing  to  eat  for  twenty-four 
hours,  cooking  over  a little  charcoal  pot  is  some- 
thing that  one  must  take  a 6 hand  in  5 to  fully 
appreciate. 

“ There  was  the  feeling  as  if  one  were  dazed 
and  unnatural  to  hear  American  soldiers,  men  from 
140 


CUBA 


comfortable  homes,  literally  begging  for  6 just  a 
spoonful  of  gruel.’  The  charcoal  pot  burned 
night  and  day,  gallons  of  gruel  were  made  and 
quantities  of  rice  cooked  until  the  greatest  stress 
had  passed.  It  was  no  time  to  stand  on  trained 
service,  and  everybody,  man  or  woman,  was  ready 
to  lend  a hand. 

“ A striking  feature  of  the  first  day’s  engage- 
ment was  the  number  of  men  wounded  in  the  head, 
arm,  and  upper  part  of  the  body.  Some  of  these 
cases,  the  most  serious,  were  taken  into  the  Red 
Cross  Hospital,  where  they  received  the  most  skil- 
ful and  gentle  nursing. 

“ Two  days’  steady  strain  began  to  show  on  the 
Sisters. 

46  The  strain  had  been  the  greater  because  there 
were  no  facilities  for  anything  like  a regular  meal 
short  of  the  ship,  reached  by  a long,  hard  tramp 
in  the  sand,  then  a row  over  the  tossing  waves. 
But  nobody  thought  of  meals.  The  one  thing  was 
to  feed  and  nurse  the  500  wounded  and  sick  men. 
Human  endurance,  however,  has  its  limit,  and  un- 
less the  Sisters  could  get  a little  rest  they  would 
give  out.  I went  on  duty  for  twenty-four  hours, 
at  night,  with  the  assistance  of  one  man,  taking 
care  of  forty  patients,  fever,  measles,  and  dysen- 
tery cases,  and  half  a dozen  badly  wounded  men. 
141 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


Among  the  latter  was  Captain  Mills,  of  the  First 
Cavalry,  and  William  Clark,  a colored  private  in 
the  Twenty-fifth  Infantry,  regulars.  They  were 
brought  over  from  the  hospital  tents  and  placed  on 
cots  out  on  the  little  porch,  where  there  was  just 
room  to  pass  between  the  cots. 

“ Their  wounds  were  very  similar — in  the  head 
— and  of  such  a character  as  to  require  cool  appli- 
cations to  the  eyes  constantly.  Ice  was  scarce  and 
worth  its  weight  in  gold,  for  the  lives  of  these  men 
as  well  as  others  depended  chiefly  on  cool  applica- 
tions to  the  eyes,  with  as  uniform  temperature  as 
possible.  We  had  one  small  piece  of  ice,  carefully 
wrapped  in  a blanket.  There  never  was  a small 
piece  of  ice  that  went  so  far.  If  I were  to  tell  the 
truth  about  it  nobody  would  believe  me. 

“ Never  in  my  whole  life,  I think,  have  I wished 
for  anything  so  much  as  I wished  for  plenty  of  ice 
that  night.  It  was  applied  by  chipping  in  small 
bits,  laid  in  thin,  dry  cotton  cloth,  folded  over  in 
just  the  right  size  and  flat,  to  place  across  the  eyes 
and  forehead,  enough  of  it  to  be  cold,  but  not 
heavy,  on  the  wounds. 

“ The  ears  of  the  sick  are  strangely  acute. 
Whenever  the  sick  men  heard  the  sound  of  chip- 
ping ice  they  begged  for  ice-water;  even  the  small- 
est bit  of  ice  in  a cup  of  water  was  begged  with  an 
142 


CUBA 


eagerness  that  was  pitiful.  I felt  conscience-smit- 
ten. But  it  was  a question  of  saving  the  eyes  of 
the  wounded  men,  and  there  was  no  other  way.  To 
make  the  ice  last  till  morning  I stealthily  chipped 
it  off  so  the  sick  men  would  not  hear  the  sound. 

“ At  midnight  a surgeon  came  over  from  his 
tent  ward  with  a little  piece  of  ice  not  larger  than 
his  hand.  I do  not  know  his  name,  but  it  does  not 
matter,  it  is  inscribed  above.  6 This  is  all  we  can 
spare,’  he  said.  4 Take  it.  You  must  keep  those 
wounds  cool  at  all  hazards.  I have  another  case 
very  like  these — a man  wounded  in  the  head.  I 
want  to  bring  him  over  here,  where  he  will  be  sure 
of  exactly  the  same  nursing.  His  life  depends  on 
the  care  he  gets  in  the  next  twenty-four  hours. 
Have  you  a vacant  cot?  5 

“ There  was  not  a vacant  cot,  but  we  could  make 
room  for  one  on  the  porch  if  he  could  find  the  cot. 
He  thought  he  could,  and  went  back,  taking  the 
precious  piece  of  ice  that  he  really  needed  more 
than  we  did.  In  the  course  of  a half  hour  the 
surgeon  returned  to  say  it  was  impossible  to  get  a 
cot  anywhere,  and  the  wounded  man  must  be  left 
where  he  was  in  the  tent,  at  least  until  morning. 

“ And  so  it  went  on  through  the  long  night — 
the  patient  suffering  of  the  sick  men,  the  heroism 
of  the  wounded,  all  fearing  to  give  any  trouble, 
113 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


desiring  not  to  do  so,  and  grateful  for  the  smallest 
attention. 

“ The  courage  that  faces  death  on  the  battle- 
field or  calmly  awaits  it  in  the  hospital  is  not  a 
courage  of  race  or  color.  Two  of  the  bravest  men 
I ever  saw  were  here,  almost  side  by  side  on  the 
little  porch — Captain  Mills  and  Private  Clark — 
one  white,  the  other  black.  They  were  wounded 
almost  at  the  same  time,  and  in  the  same  way.  The 
patient  suffering  and  heroism  of  the  black  soldier 
was  fully  equal  to  that  of  the  Anglo-Saxon.  It  was 
quite  the  same,  the  gentleness  and  appreciation. 
They  were  a study,  these  men  so  widely  apart  in 
life,  but  here  strangely  close  and  alike  on  the  com- 
mon ground  of  duty  and  sacrifice.  They  received 
precisely  the  same  care;  each  fed  like  a child,  for 
with  their  bandaged  eyes  they  were  as  helpless  as 
blind  men.  When  the  ice-pads  were  renewed  on 
Captain  Mills’s  eyes  the  same  change  was  made  on 
Private  Clark’s  eyes.  There  was  no  difference  in 
their  beds  or  food.  Neither  uttered  a word  of  com- 
plaint. The  nearest  to  a regret  expressed  by  Cap- 
tain Mills  was  a heavy  sigh,  followed  by  the  words: 
6 Oh,  we  were  not  ready.  Our  army  was  not  pre- 
pared.’ 

“ Of  himself  he  talked  cheerfully,  strong,  and 
hopeful.  6 1 think  I shall  go  home  with  the  sight 
of  one  eye,’  he  said.  That  was  all. 

1U 


CUBA 


“ In  the  early  part  of  the  night  he  was  restless, 
his  brain  was  active,  cool,  and  brave  as  he  might 
be.  The  moonlight  was  very  bright,  a flood  of 
silver,  seen  only  in  the  tropics.  Hoping  to  divert 
him  I said : 6 The  moonlight  is  too  bright,  captain. 
I will  put  up  a paper  screen  so  you  can  get  to 
sleep.’ 

“ He  realized  at  once  the  absurdity  and  the 
ludicrous  side,  and  with  an  amused  smile  replied: 
6 But  you  know  I can’t  see  the  moonlight.’ 

“ I said  it  was  time  to  get  more  ice  for  his  head 
and  half  stumbled  across  the  porch,  blinded  by 
tears.  When  told  who  his  nearest  neighbor  was, 
Captain  Mills  expressed  great  sympathy  for  Pri- 
vate Clark  and  paid  a high  tribute  to  the  bravery 
of  the  colored  troops  and  their  faithful  perform- 
ance of  duty. 

“ Private  Clark  talked  but  little.  He  would  lie 
apparently  asleep  until  the  pain  in  his  head  became 
unbearable.  Then  he  would  try  to  sit  up,  always 
careful  to  keep  the  ice-pad  on  his  eyes  over  the 
bandage. 

“ 6 What  can  I do  for  you,  Clark  ? ’ I would  ask, 
anxious  to  relieve  his  pain. 

“ ‘Nothing,  thank  you,’  he  would  answer.  ‘ It’s 
very  nice  and  comfortable  here.  But  it’s  only  the 
misery  in  my  head — the  misery  is  awful.’ 

145 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


“ Poor  fellow ! there  was  never  a moan,  merely  a 
little  sigh  now  and  then,  but  always  that  wonder- 
ful patience  that  seemed  to  me  not  without  a touch 
of  divine  philosophy,  complete  acceptance. 

“ I have  mentioned  these  two  men,  not  as  excep- 
tional in  bravery,  but  to  illustrate  the  rule  of  hero- 
ism, and  because  they  were  among  the  patients 
under  my  immediate  care  that  night.  It  was  a 
strange  night  picture — a picture  that  could  never 
be  dimmed  by  time  but  live  through  all  the  years 
of  one’s  life. 

“ After  midnight  a restful  atmosphere  pervaded 
the  hospital  and  the  blessing  of  sleep  fell  upon  the 
suffering  men,  one  by  one.  In  the  little  interval  of 
repose  I dropped  into  an  old  chair  on  the  porch, 
looked  away  to  the  beautiful  mountains  sharply 
outlined  in  the  moonlight,  and  the  sea  like  waves  of 
silver,  the  camp  on  the  shore;  near  by  thirty  or 
forty  horses  standing  motionless.  Then  the  hos- 
pital tents,  with  now  and  then  the  flickering  light 
of  a candle;  in  the  background  the  cliffs,  with  here 
and  there  a Spanish  blockhouse.  Over  all  the 
tragedy  of  life  and  death,  the  pain  and  sorrow, 
there  was  the  stillness  of  a peaceful  night — a still- 
ness broken  only  by  the  sound  of  the  surf  brought 
back  on  the  cool  breeze,  the  cool,  refreshing  breeze, 
for  which  we  all  thanked  God.” 

146 


CUBA 


Later  on,  as  will  be  remembered,  Miss  Jennings 
went  North — a volunteer  nurse  on  the  transport 
Seneca.  The  brave  men  whose  lives  hung  in 
the  balance  that  night — with  little  hope  that,  if 
life  were  spared,  they  would  ever  see  again — re- 
covered, but  each  with  the  loss  of  an  eye.  After 
a long  furlough  Private  Clark  returned  to  his 
regiment.  Captain  Mills,  now  General  Mills,  is  the 
Superintendent  of  the  West  Point  Military  Acad- 
emy. 

Three  times  in  the  first  week  I went  over  those 
terrible  roads  from  the  front  to  Siboney  and  re- 
turn. Arriving  at  Siboney  late  one  night,  there 
was  no  way  I could  get  on  board  the  State  of 
Texas  and  I was  obliged  to  remain  on  shore.  The 
Postmaster  insisted  that  I occupy  a room  in  the 
building  used  for  a post-office.  Such  a courtesy 
could  not  be  refused,  and  against  all  feeling  of 
acquiescence,  and  with  a dread  as  if  there  were 
something  wrong  about  it,  I allowed  myself  to  be 
helped  out  of  the  wagon  and  entered  the  house. 
The  Postmaster  sat  down  and  talked  with  me  a lit- 
tle while.  I thought  he  seemed  ill.  I had  never 
met  him  before,  but  my  heart  went  out  in  sympathy 
147 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


for  him.  I feared  I was  taking  his  room,  although 
he  did  not  admit  it. 

I was  shown  into  a room  where  there  was  a cot, 
a table,  and  a candle  without  a stick,  burning  upon 
the  table.  The  men  went  outside  and  laid  down 
upon  the  steps  for  the  night.  I laid  down  upon 
the  cot,  but  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  remain 
there.  Something  constantly  warned  me  to  leave 
it.  I got  up,  went  to  the  door,  looked  out  upon 
the  night  and  darkness,  and  waited  for  the  gray 
of  the  morning.  I went  out  and  stood  upon  the 
beach  beside  the  sea  and  waited  more  and  more, 
until  finally  some  of  the  men  appeared,  and  I went 
with  them  down  to  the  water. 

Six  days  later  they  told  me  that  the  rightful 
occupant  of  the  cot — the  Postmaster,  who  had 
seemed  so  ill — had  died  of  a fever  raging  here  that 
they  called  66  yellow  fever.”  I had  occupied  his 
cot.  I wonder  who  it  was  that  so  continually 
warned  me  that  night  to  keep  away  from  that  room, 
away  from  the  cot,  away  from  all  connected  with 
it?  66  Yellow  fever  ” was  not  then  talked  of.  Did 
some  one  tell  me?  I do  not  know — but  something 
told  me. 


148 


CUBA 


The  negotiations  between  General  Shatter  and 
the  Spanish  army  at  Santiago  were  going  on.  The 
flag  of  truce,  that  threatened  every  day  to  come 
down,  still  floated.  The  Spanish  soldiers  had  been 
led  by  their  officers  to  believe  that  every  man  who 
surrendered — and  the  people  as  well — would  be 
butchered  whenever  the  city  should  fall  and  the 
American  troops  should  come  in.  But  when  Gen- 
eral Shatter  commenced  to  send  back  convoys  of 
captured  Spanish  officers,  their  wounds  dressed, 
and  carefully  placed  on  stretchers,  borne  under 
flags  of  truce  to  the  Spanish  lines  at  Santiago,  and 
set  down  at  the  feet  of  General  Toral,  and  when 
in  astonishment  that  officer  learned  the  object  of 
the  flag  of  truce  and  sent  companies  of  his  soldiers 
to  form  in  line  and  present  arms,  while  the  cortege 
of  wounded  were  borne  through  by  American 
troops,  a lesson  was  learned  that  went  far  toward 
the  surrender  of  that  city. 

I happen  to  know  that  it  was  not  without  some 
very  natural  home  criticism  that  General  Shatter 
persisted  in  his  course  in  the  face  of  the  time^ 
honored  custom  of  “ hostages.”  One  can  readily 
understand  that  the  voluntary  giving  up  of 
149 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


prisoners — officers  at  that — in  view  of  an  impend- 
ing battle,  might  seem  in  the  light  of  old-time 
army  usages  a waste,  to  characterize  it  by  no 
harder  term.  It  is  possible  that  none  of  the  officers 
in  that  field  had  ever  read  the  Articles  of  the  Treaty 
of  Geneva,  or  fully  recalled  that  the  treaty  had  be- 
come a law,  or  that  their  commander  was  acting 
in  full  accord  with  its  wise  and  humane  principles. 

By  this  time  the  main  talk  of  the  camp  was 
“ yellow  fever.”  It  was  soon  discovered  by  the 
medical  authorities  that,  from  there  having  been 
at  first  one  case  of  fever,  there  were  now  one  hun- 
dred and  sixteen,  and  that  a fever  camp  would 
probably  be  made  there,  and  the  wounded  gotten 
away.  It  was  advisable  then  that  we  return  to  our 
ship  and  attempt,  as  far  as  possible,  to  hold  that 
free  from  contagion.  I was  earnestly  solicited  to 
do  this,  in  view  of  what  was  expected  of  our  ship, 
and  of  what  was  expected  of  us,  that  we  not  only 
protect  ourselves  but  our  cargo  and  ship  from  all 
contamination  and  even  suspicion. 

I faithfully  promised  to  do  so,  and  again  called 
for  an  army  wagon,  leaving  all  supplies  that  were 
useful  for  the  men  in  camp — sending  to  El  Caney 
150 


CUBA 


what  was  most  needed  there — and  taking  only  our 
personal  effects,  started  for  Siboney.  In  less  than 
twenty  minutes  the  rain  was  pouring  on  us  and  for 
two  hours  it  fell  as  if  from  buckets.  The  water 
was  from  a foot  and  a half  to  two  feet  deep  in  the 
road  as  we  passed  along.  At  one  time  our  wagon 
careened,  the  mules  were  held  up,  and  we  waited  to 
see  whether  it  should  go  over  or  could  be  brought 
out,  the  water  a few  inches  only  from  the  top  of  the 
lower  side.  It  was  scarcely  possible  for  us  to  stir, 
hemmed  in  as  we  were,  but  the  men  from  the  other 
wagons  sprang  to  our  wheels,  hanging  in  the  air 
on  the  upper  side,  and  we  were  simply  saved  by  an 
inch. 

But  like  other  things,  this  cleared  away.  We 
came  into  Siboney  about  three  o’clock,  in  a bright 
glare  of  sunshine,  to  find  the  town  entirely  burned 
— all  buildings  gone  or  smoking — and  a “ yellow 
fever  ” hospital  established  a mile  and  a half  out 
from  Siboney. 

All  effort  was  made  to  hold  our  ship  free  from 
suspicion.  The  process  of  reasoning  leading  to 
the  conclusion  that  a solid  cargo,  packed  in  tight 
boxes  in  the  hold  of  a ship,  anchored  at  sea,  could 

151 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


become  infected  in  a day  from  the  land  or  a passing 
individual,  is  indeed  an  intricate  process.  But  we 
had  some  experience  in  this  direction.  Captain 
McCalla,  in  his  repeated  humane  attempts  to  feed 
the  refugees  around  Guantanamo,  had  called  again 
for  a hundred  thousand  rations,  saying  that  if  we 
could  bring  them  to  him  soon  he  could  get  them  to 
the  starving  people  in  the  woods.  We  lost  no  time, 
but  got  the  food  out  and  started  with  it  in  the 
night.  On  reaching  Guantanamo  we  were  met 
some  distance  out,  called  to,  and  asked  if  any 
one  on  our  ship  had  been  on  shore  at  Siboney 
within  four  days;  if  so,  our  supplies  could  not 
be  received.  We  took  them  away,  leaving  the 
starving  to  perish. 

The  constantly  recurring  news  of  the  surrender 
of  Santiago  was  so  well  established  that  we  drew 
anchor,  came  up  to  the  flag-ship,  and  sent  the  fol- 
lowing letter  to  Admiral  Sampson: 

“ State  of  Texas, 

“ July  16,  1898. 

“ Admiral  Sampson,  Commanding  U.  S.  Fleet  off 
Santiago,  Flag-Ship  New  York. 

“Admiral : It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  explain 
to  you  my  errand,  nor  its  necessity ; both  your  good 
152 


CUBA 


head  and  heart  divine  it  more  clearly  than  any 
words  of  mine  can  represent. 

“ 1 send  this  to  you  by  one  of  our  men  who  can 
tell  all  you  wish  to  know.  Mr.  John  Elwell  has 
resided  and  done  mercantile  and  shipping  business 
in  Santiago  for  the  last  seven  years;  is  favorably 
known  to  all  its  people;  has  in  his  possession  the 
keys  of  the  best  warehouses  and  residences  in  the 
city,  to  which  he  is  given  welcome  by  the  owners. 
He  is  the  person  appointed  four  months  ago  to  help 
distribute  this  food,  and  did  so  with  me  until  the 
blockade.  There  seems  to  be  nothing  in  the  way 
of  getting  our  twelve  hundred  tons  of  food  into 
a Santiago  warehouse  and  giving  it  intelligently 
to  the  thousands  who  need  and  own  it.  I have 
twenty  good  helpers  with  me.  The  New  York 
committee  is  urging  the  discharge  of  the  State  of 
Texas,  which  has  been  raised  in  price  to  four  hun- 
dred dollars  a day. 

“ If  there  is  still  more  explanation  needed,  I pray 
you,  Admiral,  let  me  see  you. 

“ Respectfuly  and  cordially, 

“ Clara  Barton.” 

These  were  anxious  days.  While  the  world  out- 
side was  making  up  war  history,  we  thought  of 
little  beyond  the  terrible  needs  about  us;  if  San- 
11  153 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


tiago  had  any  people  left,  they  must  be  in  sore 
distress ; and  El  Caney,  with  its  thirty  thousand 
homeless,  perishing  sufferers,  how  could  they  be 
reached  ? 

On  that  Sunday  morning,  never  to  be  forgotten, 
the  Spanish  fleet  came  out  of  Santiago  Harbor,  to 
meet  death  and  capture.  On  the  day  of  the  surren- 
der— another  Sunday  morning- — Lieutenant  Cape- 
hart  came  on  board  with  the  reply  of  Admiral 
Sampson,  that  if  we  would  come  alongside  the  New 
York  he  would  put  a pilot  on  board.  This  was  done, 
and  we  moved  on  through  waters  we  had  never 
traversed ; past  Morro  Castle,  long,  low,  silent,  and 
grim ; past  the  wrecks  of  the  Spanish  ships  on  the 
right;  past  the  Merrimac  in  the  channel.  We  be- 
gan to  realize  that  we  were  alone,  of  all  the  ships 
about  the  harbor  there  were  none  with  us.  The 
stillness  of  the  Sabbath  was  over  all.  The  gulls 
sailed  and  flapped  and  dipped  about  us.  The 
lowering  summer  sun  shot  long  golden  rays 
athwart  the  green  hills  on  either  side  and  tinged  the 
frater  calm  and  still.  The  silence  grew  oppressive 
as  we  glided  along  with  scarce  a ripple.  We  saw 
Dn  the  right  as  the  only  moving  thing,  a long,  slim 
154 


CUBA 


yacht  dart  out  from  among  the  bushes  and  steal 
its  way  up  half-hidden  in  the  shadows.  Suddenly 
it  was  overtaken  by  either  message  or  messenger, 
and  like  a collared  hound  glided  back  as  if  it  had 
never  been. 

Leaning  on  the  rail,  half  lost  in  reverie  over  the 
strange,  quiet  beauty  of  the  scene,  the  thought 
suddenly  burst  upon  me — are  we  really  going  into 
Santiago,  and  alone?  Are  we  not  to  be  run  out, 
and  wait  aside,  and  salute  with  dipping  colors, 
while  the  great  battle-ships  come  up  with  music 
and  banners  and  lead  the  way  ? 

As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  no  ship  was  in 
sight.  Was  this  to  remain  so?  Could  it  be  possi- 
ble that  the  commander  who  had  captured  a city 
declined  to  be  the  first  to  enter,  that  he  would  hold 
back  his  flag-ship  and  himself,  and  send  forward 
and  first  a cargo  of  food  on  a plain  ship,  under 
direction  of  a woman?  Did  our  commands,  mili- 
tary or  naval,  hold  men  great  enough  of  soul  for 
such  action?  It  must  be  true,  for  the  spires  of 
Santiago  rise  before  us,  and  turning  to  the  score 
of  companions  beside  me  I ask : “ Is  there  any  one 
here  who  will  lead  the  Doxology  ? ” In  an  instant 
155 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


the  full  rich  voice  of  Enola  Gardner  rang  out: 
“ Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow.”  By 
that  time  the  chorus  was  full,  and  the  tears  on 
many  a face  told  more  plainly  than  words  how 
genuine  was  that  praise,  and  when  in  response  to 
a second  suggestion  “ My  Country  ’Tis  of  Thee  99 
swelled  out  on  the  evening  air  in  the  farewell  rays 
of  the  setting  sun,  the  State  of  Texas  was  nearing 
the  dock,  and  quietly  dropping  her  anchor  she 
lay  there  through  the  silence  of  the  night  in  un- 
disputed possession,  facing  a bare  wind-swept 
wharf  and  the  deserted  city  of  Santiago. 

Daybreak  brought  quiet  to  an  end.  The  silence 
was  no  longer  oppressive.  A hundred  and  twenty 
stevedores  lined  up  on  the  wharf  for  work  and 
breakfast.  The  dock  had  tracks,  and  trucks  run- 
ning to  its  open  warehouses.  Boxes,  barrels,  and 
bales,  pitched  out  of  that  ship,  thrown  onto  the 
trucks  and  wheeled  away,  told  the  story  of  better 
days  to  come.  It  was  something  to  see  the  lank, 
brawny  little  army  of  stevedores  take  their  first 
breakfast  in  line,  alongside  of  the  ship. 

Later  in  the  day  the  flag-ship  brought  Admiral 
Sampson  and  Admiral  Schley,  who  spent  several 
156 


CUBA 


hours  with  us.  They  had  every  opportunity  to 
see  how  our  work  was  done,  and  if  we  were  equal 
to  unloading  our  ship.  When  they  were  about  to 
leave  Admiral  Sampson  was  asked  what  orders  or 
directions  he  had  for  us.  He  replied:  “ You  need 
no  directions  from  me,  but  if  any  one  troubles  you 
let  me  know.” 

The  amiable  pleasantries  of  these  two  gallant 
officers  during  that  visit  are  a pleasure  to  recall. 
As  I was,  at  an  opportune  moment,  attempting  to 
express  my  appreciation  and  thanks  to  Admiral 
Sampson  for  the  courtesy  of  allowing  us  to  pre- 
cede him  into  Santiago,  Admiral  Schley,  with  that 
naivete  and  apt  turn  of  expression  so  character- 
istic of  him,  in  a half  undertone  side-remark, 
cautioned  me  with  “ Don’t  give  him  too  much 
credit,  Miss  Barton ; he  was  not  quite  sure  how 
clear  the  channel  might  be.  Remember  that  was 
a trial  trip.” 

How  sadly  the  recollection  of  that  pleasant, 
memorable  day  has  since  recurred  to  me;  brave, 
gallant  brothers  in  arms,  and  in  heart ; knowing 
only  a soldier’s  duty ; each  holding  his  country’s 
honor  first,  his  own  last;  its  glory  his  glory,  and 

157 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


for  himself  seeking  nothing  more.  Ah,  people, 
press,  and  politics ! How  deal  ye  with  your 
servants  ? 

A message  was  received  from  General  Shafter, 
who  telegraphed  from  his  headquarters : “ The 
death  rate  at  El  Caney  is  terrible;  can  you  send 
food?  ” The  answer  was  to  send  the  thirty  thou- 
sand refugees  of  El  Caney  at  once  back  to  San- 
tiago ; we  were  there  and  could  feed  them ; that  the 
State  of  Texas  had  still  twelve  hundred  tons  of 
supplies. 

The  thirty  thousand  inhabitants  of  Santiago 
had  been  driven  to  El  Caney,  a village  designed 
for  five  hundred.  In  two  days  all  were  called  back 
and  fed,  ten  thousand  the  first  day,  twenty  thou- 
sand the  second.  Then  came  our  troops,  and  San- 
tiago was  lived  and  is  remembered.  Its  hospitals, 
the  ante-chamber  to  Montauk,  are  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. 

A general  committee  was  formed,  the  city  dis- 
tricted into  sections,  with  a commissioner  for  each 
district,  selected  by  the  people  themselves  living 
there.  Every  family  of  person  residing  within  the 
city  was  supplied  by  the  commissioner  of  that  dis- 
158 


CUBA 


trict,  and  all  transient  persons  were  fed  at  the 
kitchens,  the  food  being  provided  by  the  Red 
Cross. 

The  discharge  of  the  cargo  of  the  State  of  Texas 
commenced  at  six  o’clock  Monday  morning,  July 
18th.  One  hundred  and  twenty-five  stevedores 
were  employed  and  paid  in  food  issued  as  rations. 
Four  days  later  the  discharge  was  completed. 

Although  the  army  had  entered  the  city  during 
the  latter  part  of  that  time,  there  had  been  no  con- 
fusion, no  groups  of  disorderly  persons  seen,  no 
hunger  in  the  city  more  than  in  ordinary  times. 
We  had  done  all  that  could  be  done  to  advantage 
at  that  time  in  Santiago.  The  United  States 
troops  had  mainly  left.  The  Spanish  soldiers  were 
coming  in  to  their  waiting  ships,  bringing  with 
them  all  the  diseases  that  unprovided  and  uncleanly 
camps  would  be  expected  to  hold  in  store.  Five 
weeks  before  we  had  brought  into  Santiago  all  the 
cargo  of  the  State  of  Texas  excepting  the  hospital 
supplies,  which  had  been  used  the  month  previous 
among  our  own  troops  at  Siboney,  General  Shat- 
ter’s front,  and  El  Caney  during  the  days  of 
fighting. 


159 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


These  were  the  last  days  of  General  Shafter  in 
Santiago,  who  was,  as  he  had  at  all  times  been,  the 
kind  and  courteous  officer  and  gentleman.  Gen- 
eral Wood,  who  was  made  Governor  of  the  Prov- 
ince of  Santiago  upon  the  day  of  surrender — 
alert,  wise,  and  untiring,  with  an  eye  single  to  the 
good  of  all — toiled  day  and  night. 

The  State  of  Texas  steamed  away  to  its  north- 
ern  home.  Peace  and  plenty  came.  The  reconcen- 
trados  we  went  in  search  of  were  never  reached. 
To  those  who  could  not  withstand,  Heaven  came. 
To  those  who  could,  Cuba  Libre . 

Later  on,  general  efforts  were  made  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  thousands  of  orphans  over  the  island, 
in  which  efforts  the  Red  Cross  joined.  But  the 
people  of  Cuba  solved  the  question  themselves — 
by  a general  adoption  in  their  own  homes- — and 
orphanages  in  Cuba  became  a thing  of  the  past. 

Thus  our  work  on  that  distressful  field  closed, 
after  nearly  two  years  of  such  effort  as  one  would 
never  desire  to  repeat.  The  financial  management 
of  that  field,  so  far  as  the  Red  Cross  was  concerned, 
was  done  under  the  attorneyship  of  the  Central 
Cuban  Relief  Committee  of  New  York,  whose  re- 
160 


CUBA 


ports  are  models  of  accuracy  and  accountability, 
and  to  which  any  person  desiring  information  may 
be  referred. 

Cuba  was  a hard  field,  full  of  heart-breaking 
memories.  It  gave  the  first  opportunity  to  test 
the  cooperation  between  the  government  and  its 
supplemental  handmaiden,  the  Red  Cross.  That 
these  relations  might  not  have  been  clearly  under- 
stood at  this  initial  date  may  well  be  appreciated, 
but  that  time  and  experience  will  remedy  this  may 
be  confidently  hoped. 

Through  all  our  discouragements  the  steady 
hand  and  calm  approval  of  our  great  head  of  the 
army  and  navy  was  our  solace  and  our  strength. 
And  when  at  length  it  was  all  over,  his  hand  could 
trace  for  his  message  to  his  people  the  following 
testimonial,  what  need  had  one  even  to  remember 
past  discouragements,  however  great?  It  was  as 
if  the  hand  of  the  martyr  had  set  its  undying  seal 
upon  the  brow  of  the  American  Red  Cross.  What 
greater  justification  could  it  have?  What  greater 
riches  could  it  crave? 

“In  this  connection  it  is  a pleasure  for 
161 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


me  to  mention  in  terms  of  cordial  appre- 
ciation the  timely  and  useful  work  of  the 
American  Red  Cross,  both  in  relief  measures 
preparatory  to  the  campaigns,  in  sanitary 
assistance  at  several  of  the  camps  of  assem- 
blage, and,  later,  under  the  able  and  ex- 
perienced leadership  of  the  president  of  the 
society,  Miss  Clara  Barton,  on  the  fields  of 
battle  and  in  the  hospitals  at  the  front  in 
Cuba.  Working  in  conjunction  with  the 
governmental  authorities  and  under  their 
sanction  and  approval,  and  with  the  en- 
thusiastic cooperation  of  many  patriotic 
women  and  societies  in  the  various  States, 
the  Red  Cross  has  fully  maintained  its  al- 
ready high  reputation  for  intense  earnest- 
ness and  ability  to  exercise  the  noble  pur- 
poses of  its  international  organization,  thus 
justifying  the  confidence  and  support  which 
it  has  received  at  the  hands  of  the  American 
people.  To  the  members  and  officers  and 
all  who  aided  them  in  their  philanthropic 
162 


CUBA 


work,  the  sincere  and  lasting  gratitude  of 
the  soldiers  and  the  public  is  due  and  freely 
accorded. 

“ In  tracing  these  events  we  are  con- 
stantly reminded  of  our  obligations  to  the 
Divine  Master  for  His  watchful  care  over 
us,  and  His  safe  guidance,  for  which  the 
nation  makes  reverent  acknowledgment  and 
offers  humble  prayers  for  the  continuance 
of  His  favors.” — From  President  McKin- 
ley’s MESSAGE  TO  CONGRESS,  DECEMBER  6, 
1898. 


163 


IX 


GALVESTON 

1900 

This  time  there  was  no  murmur  in  the  air,  no 
warning  of  approaching  danger.  Even  the  watch- 
ful press,  that  knows  so  much  before  it  ever  hap- 
pens, slumbered  quiet  and  deep,  till  the  hissing 
wires  shrieked  the  terrifying  word — Galveston. 

Then  we  learned  that,  as  at  Port  Royal,  the  sea 
had  overleaped  its  bounds  and  its  victims  by  thou- 
sands were  in  its  grasp. 

In  all  the  land  no  one  slept  then.  To  us  it  was 
the  clang  of  the  fire-bell,  and  the  drop  of  the 
harness.  The  Red  Cross  clans  commenced  to 
gather. 

In  two  days  a little  coterie  of  near  a dozen  left 
Washington  under  escort  of  the  competent  agency 
of  the  New  York  World,  which  had  on  the  first  day 
telegraphed  that  it  would  open  a subscription  for 
the  relief  of  Galveston,  and  would  be  glad  to  send 
all  supplies  and  money  received  to  the  Red  Cross, 
164 


GALVESTON 


if  its  president,  Miss  Clara  Barton,  would  go  and 
distribute  it.  It  was  the  acceptance  of  this  gen- 
erous offer  that  had  brought  to  the  station  in 
Washington  the  escort;  and  a palace-car,  provided 
with  all  comforts  for  the  journey  to  Galveston, 
was  under  the  management  of  the  World’s  efficient 
correspondent  and  agent,  Robert  Adamson. 

The  direfulness  of  the  news  gathered  as  we  pro- 
ceeded on  our  journey,  and  delays  were  gotten  over 
as  quickly  as  possible.  A detention  of  several  hours 
in  New  Orleans  gave  opportunity  for  consultation 
with  the  officers  of  the  Red  Cross  Society  of  that 
city,  which  had  held  its  loyal  ranks  unbroken  since 
1882,  and  became  a tower  of  strength  in  this  relief. 
A day  of  waiting  in  Houston  for  a passage  over 
the  Gulf  gave  us  a glimpse  of  what  the  encroach- 
ment had  been  on  the  mainland.  We  found  the 
passage  across  to  Galveston  difficult,  and  with  one 
night  of  waiting  by  the  shore  in  almost  open  cars, 
at  Texas  City,  we  at  length  arrived  in  Galveston 
on  the  morning  of  the  15th  of  September. 

Here  again  no  description  could  adequately 
serve  its  purpose.  The  sea,  with  fury  spent,  had 
sullenly  retired.  The  strongest  buildings,  half 
165 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


standing,  roofless  and  tottering,  told  what  once 
had  been  the  make-up  of  a thriving  city.  But  that 
cordon  of  wreckage  skirting  the  shore  for  miles  it 
seemed,  often  twenty  feet  in  height,  and  against 
which  the  high  tide  still  lapped  and  rolled ! What 
did  it  tell?  The  tale  is  all  too  dreadful  to  recall — 
the  funeral  pyre  of  at  least  five  thousand  human 
beings.  The  uncoffined  dead  of  the  fifth  part  of  a 
city  lay  there.  The  lifeless  bodies  festering  in  the 
glaring  heat  of  a September  sun  told  only  too 
fatally  what  that  meant  to  that  portion  of  the 
city  left  alive.  The  streets  were  well-nigh  im- 
passable, the  animals  largely  drowned,  the  work- 
ing force  of  men  diminished,  dazed,  and  homeless. 
The  men  who  had  been  the  fathers  of  the  city,  its 
business  and  its  wealth,  looked  on  aghast  at  their 
overwhelmed  possessions,  ruined  homes,  and,  worse 
than  all,  mourned  their  own  dead. 

Yet  these  men,  to  the  number  of  thirty  or 
more,  had,  as  one  may  say,  pulled  themselves  to- 
gether, and  were  even  at  that  early  date  a relief 
committee,  holding  their  meetings  at  the  wrecked 
and  half-ruined  hotel,  almost  the  only  public  house 
left  standing.  To  this  hotel  we  also  went  and  re- 
166 


GALVESTON 


ported  to  the  committee.  To  say  that  we  were 
kindly  and  gratefully  received  by  them  says  noth- 
ing that  would  satisfy  either  ourselves  or  them. 

The  conditions  were  so  new  to  them  that  it  was 
a relief  to  meet  persons  who  had  seen  such  things 
before.  We  were  asked  not  only  to  act  with  them, 
but  to  assume  charge  of  the  administration  of 
relief.  This,  of  course,  we  would  not  do,  but  that 
we  would  meet  with,  counsel,  and  aid  them  in  every 
way  in  our  power,  is  needless  to  affirm.  That  we 
did  do  this,  through  every  day  of  our  stay  of  three 
months,  not  only  our  own  conviction,  but  the  un- 
asked and  unexpected  testimony  of  both  Galveston 
and  the  Legislature  of  the  State  of  Texas,  go  to 
assure. 

On  the  third  day  after  our  arrival  we  were 
joined  by  Mr.  Stephen  E.  Barton,  President  of 
the  former  Central  Cuban  Relief  Committee,  and 
Mr.  Fred  L.  Ward,  its  competent  secretary,  who 
became  our  secretary  from  the  time  of  his  arrival 
until  the  close  of  the  field,  continuing  until  after 
our  return  to  headquarters  and  settling  the  last 
account.  Not  only  the  thanks  of  the  Red  Cross 
are  due  for  his  faithful,  painstaking  work,  but  his 
167 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


name  is  still  a household  word  through  the  score 
of  counties  skirting  the  shore  on  the  mainland  of 
. Texas. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  readers  to  know  what  is 
done  first,  or  just  how  a relief  party  commence 
under  circumstances  like  that.  A few  words  will 
give  an  outline.  First  the  ground  must  be  over- 
looked and  conditions  learned.  This  is  not  easy 
when  it  is  remembered  that  broken  houses,  cars, 
wagons,  church  steeples,  and  grand  pianos  were 
liable  to  be  encountered  in  the  middle  of  the  leading 
streets,  themselves  buried  three  feet  in  the  coarse 
black  sand,  brought  in  by  the  great  tidal  wave. 

Nevertheless,  a building  must  be  found  in  which 
to  store  and  distribute  the  supplies  that  would  im- 
mediately come.  How  needful  these  supplies  would 
be  can  be  inferred  when  it  is  recalled  that  scores  of 
persons  came  alive  out  of  that  wreck,  with  simply 
the  band  of  a shirt  or  a night-dress  held  by  its 
button  about  the  neck  as  the  only  reminder  that 
ever  a cover  of  clothing  had  been  theirs. 

A little  meeting  of  my  assistants  early  held  as- 
signed each  to  his  duty  and  his  place.  A ware- 
house, fortunately  still  intact,  was  generously  sup- 
168 


GALVESTON 


plied  by  Mr.  John  Sealy.  Major  James  A. 
McDowell,  with  the  experience  of  this  branch  of 
Red  Cross  work  from  Johnstown  down,  and  the 
record  of  twenty-six  battles  in  the  old  civil  war, 
was  placed  in  charge.  Here  is  one  of  the  scenes 
given  by  a casual  eye-witness : 

A poor  feeble-looking  man,  with  scant  clothing, 
enters  the  warehouse  and  waits.  44  Hello  there,” 
calls  the  observant  major — with  his  Grand  Army 
button — overhauling  clothes  for  the  visitor. 
46  But,  major,  I was  a Confederate  soldier.” 
44  Lord  bless  your  poor  suffering  soul,  what  differ- 
ence does  that  make?  Here,  this  will  suit  you.” 

It  was  thought  advisable  by  some  of  the  party 
to  establish  an  orphanage,  which  was  done  and 
carried  through,  regardless  of  the  common-sense 
idea  that  few  children  would  survive,  when  the 
parents  were  drowned.  And  so  it  proved*  although 
the  work  was  faithfully  administered. 

Homes  must  be  made,  lumber  obtained,  and 
houses  built.  The  Red  Cross  sent  out  the  appeal 
for  lumber  and  aided  in  the  work  of  shelter. 

Mrs.  Fannie  B.  Ward  was  placed  in  charge  of 
a special  clothing  department.  Need  I remind 
12  169 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


thoughtful  readers  that  in  a disaster  like  that, 
where  people  of  affluence,  culture,  and  position  are 
in  a night  bereft  of  all,  one  of  the  cruelest  features 
might  be  to  go  to  the  open  boxes  of  a relief  sta- 
tion for  clothing,  such  as  never  before  worn,  and 
could  not  be  asked  for  through  the  choking  tears. 
In  all  humanity  these  cases  must  be  properly,  re- 
spectfully, and  discreetly  met,  as  one  lady  could 
meet  another  in  distress. 

No  more  vivid  picture  of  the  conditions  by 
which  we  were  surrounded  can  be  imagined  than 
the  following  extract  from  Mrs.  Ward’s  report: 

“ Just  seven  days  after  the  storm  we  found  our- 
selves stranded  at  Texas  City,  on  the  mainland 
opposite  Galveston  Island,  waiting  for  transpor- 
tation across  the  six-mile  stretch  of  water.  Bridges 
had  been  swept  away,  and  new  sand-bars  thrown  up 
in  the  bay ; floating  roofs  and  timbers  impeded  nav- 
igation, and  the  only  method  of  communication  be- 
tween the  mainland  and  Galveston  was  one  poor 
little  ferry-boat,  which  had  to  feel  her  now  dan- 
gerous way  very  cautiously,  by  daylight  only.  She 
had  also  to  carry  nearly  a quarter  of  her  capacity 
in  soldiers  to  prevent  her  being  swamped  by  wait- 
170 


GALVESTON 


ing  crowds  of  people,  frantic  to  learn  the  fate  of 
their  friends  on  the  island.  Each  trip  to  the  main- 
land, the  boat  came  filled  with  refugees  from  the 
city  of  doom — the  sick,  the  maimed,  the  sorrowing 
— many  with  fearful  bodily  injuries  inflicted  by 
the  storm,  and  others  with  deeper  wounds  of  grief ; 
— mothers  whose  babies  had  been  torn  from  their 
arms,  children  whose  parents  were  missing,  fathers 
whose  entire  families  were  lost — a dazed  and 
tearless  throng,  such  as  Dante  might  have  met  in 
his  passage  through  Inferno.  These  were  dumped 
by  thousands  on  the  sandy  beach  at  Texas  City, 
and  then  conveyed  by  rail  to  Houston,  to  be  cared 
for  by  the  good  people  of  that  city,  who,  notwith- 
standing their  own  grievous  losses,  were  doing 
noble  work  for  their  stricken  neighbors. 

“ Of  Texas  City — a flourishing  town  of  four  or 
five  thousand  houses — nothing  remained  but  heaps 
of  bricks  and  splintered  wood,  sodden  bales  of  cot- 
ton and  bits  of  household  furniture,  scattered  over 
the  plain;  not  a standing  habitation  within  miles, 
nor  any  shelter  for  the  crowds  above-mentioned, 
except  two  or  three  hospital-tents,  hastily  set  up 
for  the  sick  and  wounded,  but  inadequate  for  their 
171 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


accommodation.  What  was  our  dismay  when  told 
that  here  we  must  remain  at  least  twenty-four 
hours,  for  the  return  of  the  boat!  However,  we 
were  better  off,  even  physically,  than  most  of  the 
waiting  crowd,  though  weariness  of  the  flesh 
amounted  to  actual  suffering,  after  more  than  fifty 
hours’  travel.  As  a special  courtesy  to  Miss  Bar- 
ton, the  railway  company  left  a car  to  shelter  her 
during  the  night.  Luxurious  Pullmans  did  not 
abound  at  Texas  City,  and  this  was  the  shabbiest 
of  day-coaches,  equipped  with  few  6 modern  con- 
veniences.’ But  this  was  no  time  to  think  of  per- 
sonal comfort,  on  the  threshold  of  so  much  misery ; 
and  who  could  murmur  when  the  head  of  our  little 
company  set  such  an  heroic  example  of  patience. 
I have  seen  her  in  many  trying  situations,  that 
threatened  the  fortitude  and  endurance  of  the 
strongest — and  have  yet  to  hear  the  first  word  of 
complaint  from  her  lips.  She  smilingly  6 bunked  ’ 
upon  two  seats  laid  together — compared  to  which, 
for  softness,  the  penit enters  slab  of  stone  would  be 
as  6 downy  beds  of  ease  ’ — and  encouraged  her 
companions  to  do  the  same.  Hunger  and  thirst 
would  also  have  been  our  portion,  had  it  not  been 
172 


GALVESTON 


for  a Salvation  Army  Corps  encamped  in  the  vicin- 
ity, and  the  Relief  Train  of  the  Philadelphia 
North  American,  stranded  like  ourselves.  Thanks 
to  those  good  Samaritans,  we  dined  and  break- 
fasted on  tinned  beef,  bread  and  coffee;  and  what 
more  could  good  soldiers  require? 

“ That  night  in  Texas  City  will  be  long  remem- 
bered. Sleep  was  out  of  the  question — stretched 
on  those  cross-bars,  like  St.  Lawrence  on  his  grid- 
iron. Soldiers  patrolled  the  beach,  not  only  to 
prevent  a stampede  of  the  boat,  but  to  protect  both 
the  quick  and  the  dead  from  fiends  in  human  guise, 
who  prowled  the  devastated  region,  committing 
atrocities  too  horrible  to  name.  All  night  the 
steady  tramp,  tramp,  of  the  guard  sounded  beneath 
the  car-windows,  while  at  either  door  stood  two 
sentinels,  muskets  on  shoulders.  Skies  of  inky 
blackness,  studded  with  stars  of  extraordinary  brill- 
iancy, seemed  to  bend  much  nearer  the  earth  than 
at  the  North;  and  the  Great  Dipper  hung  low  on 
the  horizon — for  only  just  across  the  Gulf  it  dis- 
appears to  give  place  to  the  Southern  Cross. 
Myriads  of  big,  bright  fire-flies,  resembling  balls 
of  flame,  flitted  restlessly  over  the  plain,  like  the 
173 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


disembodied  souls  whose  homes  were  here  one  short 
week  before,  searching  for  their  scattered  treasures. 
Over  on  Galveston  Island,  a long  line  of  flame, 
mounting  to  the  heavens,  marked  the  burning  of 
ruined  homes  and  corpses;  while  other  fires,  in  all 
directions  on  the  mainland,  told  of  similar  ghastly 
cremations.  At  one  time  I counted  twenty-three 
of  these  fires,  not  including  those  on  the  island. 
Early  in  the  morning  a strange  odor  drew  attention 
to  a fresh  funeral-pyre,  only  a few  rods  away, 
around  the  horse-shoe  curve  of  the  shore.  We 
were  told  that  thirty  bodies,  found  since  daybreak 
in  the  immediate  vicinity,  were  being  consumed  in 
it.  That  peculiar  smell  of  burning  flesh,  so  sick- 
ening at  first,  became  horribly  familiar  within  the 
next  two  months,  when  we  lived  in  it  and  breathed 
it,  day  after  day. 

“ We  found  the  situation  in  Galveston  infinitely 
worse  than  had  been  described.  The  most  sensa- 
sational  accounts  of  the  yellowest  journals  fell  far 
short  of  the  truth — simply  because  its  full  horror 
was  beyond  the  power  of  words  to  portray.  Fig- 
ures and  statistics  can  give  little  idea  of  the  results 
of  such  an  appalling  calamity;  and  to  this  day, 
174 


GALVESTON 


people  at  a distance  have  no  realization  of  the  unut- 
terable woe  which  our  Red  Cross  band  of  less  than 
a dozen,  strove  to  alleviate.  We  arrived  on  the 
eighth  day  after  the  tragedy,  in  which  upward  of 
ten  thousand  lives  went  suddenly  out  in  storm  and 
darkness;  and  the  survivors  were  just  beginning  to 
realize  the  extent  of  their  losses. 

“ At  first  they  seemed  stunned  to  partial  insensi- 
bility by  the  very  magnitude  of  their  grief — as  a 
man  who  has  been  mangled  almost  unto  death  in  a 
railroad  disaster  is  said  to  be  oblivious  to  pain. 
Dead  citizens  lay  by  thousands  amid  the  wreck  of 
their  homes,  and  raving  maniacs  searched  the  debris 
for  their  loved  ones,  with  the  organized  gangs  of 
workers.  Corpses,  dumped  by  barge-loads  into  the 
Gulf,  came  floating  back  to  menace  the  living ; and 
the  nights  were  lurid  with  incinerations  of  putre- 
fying bodies,  piled  like  cord-wood,  black  and  white 
together,  irrespective  of  age,  sex,  or  previous  con- 
dition. At  least  four  thousand  dwellings  had  been 
swept  away,  with  all  their  contents,  and  fully  half 
of  the  population  of  the  city  was  without  shelter, 
food,  clothes,  or  any  of  the  necessaries  of  life.  Of 
these,  some  were  living  in  tents ; others  crowded  in 
175 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


\ . 

with  friends  hardly  less  unfortunate;  many  half- 
crazed,  wandering  aimlessly  about  the  streets,  and 
the  story  of  their  sufferings,  mental  and  physical, 
is  past  the  telling.  Every  house  that  remained 
was  a house  of  mourning.  Of  many  families  every 
member  had  been  swept  away.  Even  sadder  were 
the  numerous  cases  where  one  or  two  were  left  out 
of  recently  happy  households ; and  saddest  of  all 
was  the  heart-breaking  suspense  of  those  whose 
friends  were  numbered  among  the  6 missing.’ 

66  We  find  it  hard  enough  to  lay  away  our  dead 
in  consecrated  ground,  with  all  the  care  and  tender- 
ness that  love  can  suggest,  where  we  may  water 
the  sacred  spot  with  our  tears  and  place  upon  it  the 
flowers  they  loved  in  life ; but  never  to  know  whether 
their  poor  bodies  were  swallowed  by  the  merciless 
Gulf,  or  fed  to  the  fishes  with  those  grewsome 
barge-loads,  or  left  above  ground  to  become  an 
abomination  in  the  nostrils  of  the  living,  or  burned 
in  indiscriminate  heaps  with  horses  and  dogs  and 
the  mingled  ashes  scattered  to  the  winds — must 
indeed  have  been  well-nigh  unbearable.  No  won- 
der there  were  lunatics  in  Galveston,  and  unnum- 
bered cases  of  nervous  prostration. 

176 


GALVESTON 


“ After  weeks  had  passed  and  two  thousand  men, 
aided  by  several  hundred  teams,  had  partially  re- 
duced the  mountain  of  wreckage,  cremation  fires  yet 
burned  continuously — fed  not  only  by  human  bod- 
ies, but  by  thousands  of  carcasses  of  domestic  ani- 
mals. By  that  time,  in  the  hot,  moist  atmosphere 
of  the  latitude,  decomposition  had  so  far  advanced 
that  the  corpses — which  at  first  were  decently  car- 
ried in  carts  or  on  stretchers,  then  shoveled  upon 
boards  or  blankets — had  finally  to  be  scooped  up 
with  pitchforks,  in  the  hands  of  negroes,  kept  at 
their  awful  task  by  the  soldiers’  bayonets.  And 
still  the  6 finds  ’ continued,  at  the  average  rate  of 
seventy  a day.  The  once  beautiful  driving  beach 
was  strewn  with  mounds  and  trenches,  holding  un- 
recognized and  uncoffined  victims  of  the  flood ; and 
between  this  improvised  cemetery  and  a ridge  of 
debris , three  miles  long  and  in  places  higher  than 
the  houses  had  been,  a line  of  cremation  fires  poi- 
soned the  air. 

“ I think  it  was  during  our  sixth  week  in  Gal- 
veston, when,  happening  to  pass  one  of  these 
primitive  crematories,  I stopped  to  interview  the 
man  in  charge.  Boards,  water-soaked  mattresses, 
177 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


rags  of  blankets  and  curtains,  part  of  a piano, 
baby-carriages,  and  the  framework  of  sewing- 
machines,  piled  on  top,  gave  it  the  appearance  of 
a festive  bonfire,  and  only  the  familiar  odor  be- 
trayed its  purpose. 

66  6 Have  you  burned  any  bodies  here  ? ’ I in- 
quired. The  custodian  regarded  me  with  a stare 
that  plainly  said,  6 Do  you  think  I am  doing  this 
for  amusement?  ’ and  shifted  his  quid  from  cheek 
to  cheek  before  replying. 

44  6 Ma’am,’  said  he,  4 this  ’ere  fire’s  been  goin’ 
on  more’n  a month.  To  my  knowledge,  upwards 
of  sixty  bodies  have  been  burned  in  it — to  say 
nothin’  of  dogs,  cats,  hens,  and  three  cows.’ 

44  4 What  is  in  there  now?  ’ I asked. 

44  4 Wa’al,’  said  he  meditatively,  4 it  takes  a 
corpse  several  days  to  burn  all  up.  I reckon  thar’s 
a couple  of  dozen  of  ’em — jest  bones,  you  know — 
down  near  the  bottom.  Yesterday  we  put  seven  on 
top  of  this  ’ere  pile,  and  by  now  they  are  only  what 
you  might  call  baked.  To-day  we  have  been  work- 
ing over  there  (pointing  to  other  fires  a quarter 
of  a mile  distant),  where  we  found  a lot  of  ’em, 
’leven  under  one  house.  We  have  put  only  two  in 
178 


GALVESTON 


here  to-day.  Found  ’em  just  now,  right  in  that 
puddle.’ 

“ 6 Could  you  tell  me  who  they  are?  ’ I asked. 

“ ‘Lord!  No,’  was  the  answer.  6 We  don’t  look 
at  ’em  any  more’n  we  have  to,  else  we’d  been  dead 
ourselves  before  to-day.  One  of  these  was  a col- 
ored man.  They  are  all  pretty  black,  now;  but 
you  can  tell  ’em  by  the  kinky  hair.  He  had  nothin’ 
but  an  undershirt  and  one  shoe.  The  other  was  a 
woman ; young,  I reckon.  ’Tenny  rate  she  was  tall 
and  slim  and  had  lots  of  long  brown  hair.  She 
wore  a blue  silk  skirt  and  there  was  a rope  tied 
around  her  waist,  as  if  somebody  had  tried  to  save 
her.’ 

“ Taking  a long  pole  he  prodded  an  air-hole 
near  the  center  of  the  smoldering  heap,  from  which 
now  issued  a frightful  smell,  that  caused  a hasty 
retreat  to  the  windward  side.  The  withdrawal  of 
the  pole  was  followed  by  a shower  of  charred  bits 
of  bone  and  singed  hair.  I picked  up  a curling, 
yellow  lock  and  wondered,  with  tears,  what  mother’s 
hand  had  lately  caressed  it. 

“ ‘ That’s  nothin’,’  remarked  the  fireman.  6 The 
other  day  we  found  part  of  a brass  chandelier,  and 

179 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


wound  all  around  it  was  a perfect  mop  of  long, 
silky  hair — with  a piece  of  skin,  big  as  your  two 
hands,  at  the  end  of  it.  Some  woman  got  tangled 
up  that  way  in  the  flood  and  jest  na’cherly 
scalped.’ 

46  I mention  these  incidents  merely  to  show  some 
of  the  conditions  that  had  to  be  met.  The  most 
we  could  do  for  the  grief-stricken  survivors  was  to 
mitigate  in  some  degree  their  bodily  distress.  The 
world  knows  how  generously  the  whole  country  re- 
sponded to  the  call — how  contributions  came  pour- 
ing in  by  trainloads  and  shiploads,  consigned  to 
the  Red  Cross.  To  distribute  all  this  bounty  judi- 
ciously was  a herculean  task — and  our  working 
force  was  very  small.  The  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
Galveston  who  had  suffered  less  than  their  neigh- 
bors, formed  themselves  into  committees,  which 
opened  relief  stations  in  the  several  wards;  and 
through  these  channels  the  bulk  of  supplies  was 
issued.  If  mistakes  were  made,  it  was  not  from 
lack  of  faithful  endeavor  on  the  part  of  the  distrib- 
uters ; and  let  us  hope  that  the  errors,  if  any,  were 
all  on  the  side  of  too  liberal  giving. 

66  Merely  to  sort  over  one  carload  of  garments,  so 

180 


GALVESTON 


as  to  make  them  immediately  available — to  put  the 
infants’  clothes  in  one  department,  the  shoes  in 
another,  grown-up  dresses  in  another,  coats  and 
trousers  in  another,  underwear  in  another — was  a 
work  of  time  and  strength;  as  the  writer,  who  for 
a while  was  6 Mistress  of  the  Robes,’  can  testify. 
From  7 a.  m.  till  dark  we  toiled ; and  when  at  last 
we  dragged  ourselves  back  to  the  hotel,  too  wearied 
for  anything  but  bed,  6 tired  Nature’s  sweet  re- 
storer ’ was  hard  to  woo,  because  of  aching  feet  and 
swollen  muscles.  But  the  experience  was  well  worth 
it!  Besides  the  joy  of  administering  to  the  suffer- 
ing, what  we  learned  of  human  nature  (mostly 
good,  I am  glad  to  say)  would  fill  volumes.  To  be 
sure,  there  were  shadows,  as  well  as  lights,  in  the 
picture.  Greed  and  hypocrisy,  jealousy,  malice, 
and  the  reverse  of  Christian  charity,  came  sometimes 
unpleasantly  to  the  fore,  to  be  offset  by  the  mag- 
nificent generosity  of  the  American  nation,  and 
the  knowledge  that  in  most  quarters  our  efforts 
were  appreciated.  Most  of  us  were  unused  to 
manual  labor,  and  all  had  left  comfortable  homes — 
some  at  considerable  financial  sacrifice  of  well-sal- 
aried positions,  not  for  earthly  gain  or  self-aggran- 
181 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


dizement,  but  from  pure  love  of  the  splendid  cause 
of  the  Cross  of  Geneva. 

66  In  that  Rag  Fair  department  of  old  clothes, 
the  ludicrous  and  pathetic  called  for  an  equal 
blending  of  smiles  and  tears.  It  seemed  as  if  every 
household,  from  Maine  to  California,  from  the  St. 
Lawrence  to  the  Rio  Grande,  had  rummaged  its 
attics  for  the  flood  sufferers.  Merchants  delivered 
themselves  of  years’  accumulations  of  shop-worn 
goods — streaked,  faded,  of  fashions  long  gone  by 
— but  a great  deal  better  than  nothing  for  the 
destitute.  There  were  at  least  a million  shirt- 
waists, all  thin  and  summery,  though  cold  winter 
was  at  hand,  when  frequent  6 northers  5 chill  the 
very  marrow  in  one’s  bones,  and  ice  and  snow  are 
not  unknown  on  Galveston  Island.  There  was  an- 
other million  of  6 Mother  Hubbard  ’ wrappers,  all 
of  the  sleaziest  print  and  scrimpest  pattern,  with 
inch-wide  hems  at  bottom  and  no  fastening  to  speak 
of — wrappers  enough  to  disfigure  every  female  in 
Southern  Texas.  Fancy  a whole  city  full  of  women 
masquerading  in  those  shapeless  garments — the 
poorest  of  their  class;  and  then  remember  that,  a 
few  years  ago,  the  great  and  glorious  State  of 
182 


GALVESTON 


Pennsylvania  found  it  necessary  to  pass  a law — 
presumably  for  the  peace  of  mind  of  her  male  citi- 
zens— forbidding  the  wearing  of  6 Mother  Hub- 
bards ’ in  the  street ! 

“ One  day  there  came  to  our  warehouse  a large 
case  of  beautiful,  buttoned  shoes,  of  the  kind  called 
‘ Sorosis.’  6 What  a bonanza  ! ’ we  thought,  when 
that  box  was  opened — and  through  our  minds 
went  trooping  a procession  of  the  shoeless  feet  we 
had  longed  to  comfort.  But  behold ! every  blessed 
shoe  of  the  one  hundred  and  forty-four  was  for  the 
left  foot! 

“ There  was  an  enormous  box  from  a city  laun- 
dry, containing  the  unclaimed  6 washings  5 of  many 
years — hundreds  of  waiters’  aprons  and  cooks’  caps, 
worn  hotel  towels  and  napkins,  ragged  shirts  and 
collars — not  a thing  worth  the  lumber  in  the  box, 
except  as  old  linen  for  the  hospitals.  There  was  a 
great  deal  of  bedraggled  finery,  than  which  noth- 
ing could  have  been  less  appropriate,  when  nine 
out  of  every  ten  women  who  applied  for  clothes, 
wanted  plain  black  in  which  to  mourn  for  their 
dead.  And  the  hats  and  bonnets  were  of  every 
shape  and  style  within  the  memory  of  man ! They 
183 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


were  mostly  so  crushed  in  careless  packing  that  to 
have  worshiped  them  would  have  been  no  sin,  ac- 
cording to  Scripture,  as  they  were  no  longer  in  the 
4 likeness  of  anything  in  the  heavens  above,  or  the 
earth  beneath,  or  the  waters  under  the  earth.’ 
There  were  workmen’s  blouses  and  overalls,  evi- 
dently shed  in  haste,  under  a sudden  impulse  of 
generosity — plastered  with  grease,  paint,  and  mor- 
tar, and  odoriferous  of  that  by  which  honest  bread 
is  said  to  be  earned. 

“ Occasionally  a box  or  barrel  was  found  to  con- 
tain garments  disgracefully  dirty  and  ragged,  or 
dropping  in  pieces  from  the  ravages  of  moths. 
Possibly  the  sending  of  such  worthless  trash  pro- 
duced in  the  hearts  of  the  donors  that  comfortable 
feeling  of  lending  to  the  Lord — but  it  wTas  no  use 
at  our  end  of  the  line.  What  to  do  with  it  was  a 
problem.  The  lowest  plantation  darky  wTould  re- 
gard the  gift  as  an  insult,  and  to  burn  even  the 
filthiest  rags  would  give  rise  to  stories  of  wranton 
waste.  So  we  hit  upon  an  expedient  wThich  had 
been  successfully  employed  in  other  fields — that  of 
putting  worthless  articles  in  nice,  clean  barrels, 
rolling  them  out  on  the  doorstep,  and  forgetting 
184 


GALVESTON 


to  bring  them  in  at  night ; and  every  morning  the 
barrels  were  found  empty. 

“ In  striking  contrast  to  these  few  4 shadows  ’ 
were  such  gifts  as  that  of  the  New  England  girl, 
who  sent  a large,  carefully  packed  satchel,  accom- 
panied by  a letter,  explaining  that  she  was  seven- 
teen years  of  age,  and  had  taken  from  her  own 
wardrobe  an  outfit,  intended  for  a flood-sufferer  of 
about  her  own  age,  whom  the  clothes  would  fit. 
The  satchel  contained  three  good  suits  complete, 
from  hat  to  hose — all  that  a girl  would  need — even 
veil,  handkerchiefs  and  fan;  and  it  is  needless  to 
add  that  they  soon  found  their  way  to  a most  grate- 
ful young  4 sufferer.’  Here  a poor  widow  divided 
her  well-worn  6 mourning  ’ with  some  stranger  sis- 
ter-in-grief ; there  the  bereaved  mother  brought  out 
the  treasured  garments  her  little  one  had  worn,  for 
some  happier  mother  who  had  lost  only  earthly  pos- 
sessions. 

“ Letters  by  hundreds  were  found  in  the  pack- 
ages, pertinent  and  impertinent,  but  all  demand- 
ing answers.  They  were  stuffed  into  old  shoes  and 
the  linings  of  hats,  cracked  tea-pots  and  boxes  of 
soap,  combs  and  matches.  Every  small  boys’ 
13  185 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


knickerbockers  contained  a note — generally  of  orig- 
inal spelling  and  laboriously  written  in  large  capi- 
tals, from  6 Tommy  ’ or  6 Johnnie  ’ or  6 Charley,’ 
asking  a reply,  telling  all  about  the  storm,  from 
the  boy  who  should  receive  the  gift.  Sentimental 
epistles  from  ladies  were  hidden  in  the  pockets  of 
coats  and  trousers,  inviting  correspondence  with 
the  future  wearers;  and  billet-doux  from  discon- 
solate widowers,  presumably  beginning  to  6 take 
notice,’  were  pinned  to  the  raiment  of  deceased 
wives.  Such  manifold  phases  have  our  poor  human 
nature ! Happily  there  was  another  and  far  more 
numerous  class  of  letters,  from  charitable  men  and 
women,  offering  to  adopt  children,  or  to  assist  in 
any  way  in  their  power ; from  Sunday-school 
classes  and  sewing  societies  and  day-schools,  en- 
closing small  sums  of  money,  or  telling  of  gifts  to 
come.  There  was  even  a letter  from  an  almshouse, 
enclosing  a check  for  eighty  dollars,  raised  by 
thirty  aged  pensioners,  who  gave  up  their  only 
luxuries — coffee,  sugar,  and  tobacco — to  swell  the 
fund  for  Galveston’s  relief.  Another  came  from 
the  poor,  forgotten  negroes  of  the  Carolina  sea 
islands,  to  whose  assistance  the  Red  Cross  went, 
186 


GALVESTON 


after  their  disastrous  floods  a few  years  ago.  Im- 
pelled by  gratitude  for  the  benefits  then  received, 
those  simple-minded  people  contributed  a surpris- 
ing amount,  considering  their  poverty.  Truly,  in 
heaven’s  reckoning  those  unselfish  6 mites  ’ of  the 
poor  and  lowly  will  count  for  as  much  as  the  mill- 
ions given  by  the  great  cities. 

“ Notwithstanding  the  vast  amount  of  old  clothes 
that  came  to  us,  we  were  always  particularly  short 
of  the  most  important  articles  of  an  outfit,  such 
as  underwear,  respectable  skirts  and  dresses,  and 
shoes- — except  of  extraordinary  sizes,  sent  because 
unsalable.  It  frequently  happened  that,  for  days 
together,  there  was  hardly  a thing  in  stock  fit  for 
people  of  the  better  class.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  we  were  not  supplying  tramps  and  beggars, 
nor  the  ordinary  applicants  for  charity,  but  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  accustomed  to  the  luxuries  of  life, 
whose  possessions  had  been  suddenly  swept  away. 
How  could  we  offer  those  dreadful  wrappers,  or 
bedraggled  finery,  or  soiled  and  ragged  garments 
which  our  servants  would  despise,  to  ladies  of  taste, 
culture,  and  refinement,  whom  we  had  come  to  as- 
sist in  their  misfortune,  not  to  insult?  Therefore, 

187 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


in  many  cases,  the  only  decent  thing  to  do  was  to 
go  out  and  buy  what  was  needed,  with  some  of 
those  blessed  contributions  which  bore  the  message, 
4 to  be  used  at  your  own  discretion.’  That  was 
Christian  charity,  pure  and  simple,  in  its  most  prac- 
tical form.  For  example:  A widow,  of  highest 
social  standing  and  former  wealth,  lived  with  her 
three  daughters  in  one  of  those  ill-fated  cottages 
near  the  beach,  which  was  swept  away  with  all  its 
contents.  Thus  the  four  helpless  women  were  left 
entirely  destitute,  even  the  clothes  on  their  backs 
borrowed  from  neighbors  a little  less  unfortunate. 
Friends  in  a Northern  city  wrote,  offering  them  a 
home.  Transportation  could  be  easily  provided, 
but  the  four  must  be  fittted  out  for  the  journey. 
We  searched  the  Rag  Fair  over,  but  found  few 
suitable  articles.  Perhaps  something  better  might 
come  in  by  and  by,  next  week,  some  other  time ; but 
for  every  hoped-for  article  were  a hundred  waiting 
applicants — and  meanwhile  those  ladies  must  be 
supported  until  sent  to  their  friends.  To  say 
nothing  of  their  own  feelings,  and  ours,  we  could 
not  disgrace  the  Red  Cross  by  sending  that  stately 
gray-haired  mother  and  the  three  delicate  young 
188 


GALVESTON 


ladies  out  into  the  world  equipped  by  our  alleged 
bounty  in  scanty  calico  6 Mother  Hubbards,’  men’s 
cow-hide  brogans,  and  scare-crow  headgear.  So 
we  picked  out  what  would  answer — here  and  there 
a garment  which  might  be  altered,  the  only  pair 
of  shoes  in  the  place  that  came  near  to  fitting  one 
of  the  ladies,  a bolt  of  unbleached  muslin  which 
they,  themselves,  could  fashion  into  underclothes, 
and  four  disreputable  old  hats.  The  latter  we 
gave  to  a local  milliner  to  remodel  and  trim,  simply 
but  respectably.  Then  we  went  to  the  store  and 
purchased  shoes  and  other  necessary  articles,  in- 
cluding enough  inexpensive  but  serviceable  cloth 
for  four  gowns  and  jackets,  and  employed  a woman 
to  make  them. 

“ This  was  not  extravagance,  but  good  use  of 
the  money,  all  around: — for  the  poor  little  mil- 
liner whose  shop  had  been  destroyed  and  business 
ruined,  whose  children  were  then  eating  the  bread 
of  charity;  and  for  the  customless  dressmaker, 
who  was  also  a grievous  sufferer  by  the  flood,  with 
younger  sisters  to  support.  We  gave  her  the  first 
work  she  had  had  for  weeks,  and  her  gratitude  was 
good  to  see. 


189 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


“ As  for  merchants,  who  were  all  on  the  verge 
of  failure,  but  making  heroic  efforts  to  keep  afloat 
— Heaven  knows  we  did  them  injury  enough  every 
day  of  our  stay  in  Galveston,  to  be  thankful  for 
the  privilege  of  occasionally  becoming  their  pa- 
trons. Not  only  had  they  suffered  immense  losses 
by  the  storm,  their  stocks  being  practically  ruined 
and  customers  gone — but  who  would  buy,  so  long 
as  the  Red  Cross  had  food  and  clothes  to  give  away, 
without  money  and  without  price?  Though  ours 
is  a noble  and  necessary  work,  it  is  never  to  the 
advantage  of  the  local  merchants,  as  a little  reflec- 
tion will  show. 

“ Another  case  was  that  of  a young  woman,  who, 
with  an  aged  relative,  was  keeping  a hotel  in  a 
near-by  village,  when  the  floods  lifted  their  house 
from  its  foundations  and  ruined  everything  in  it. 
Its  four  walls  stood,  however,  and  furnished  shelter 
for  all  the  houseless  neighbors,  who  flocked  in, 
naked  and  hungry,  and  with  whom  the  generous 
girl  divided  her  last  garment  and  bit  of  food. 
Death  also  entered  the  family,  twice  within  a few 
weeks — the  last  time  leaving  a sister’s  four  half- 
grown  children  for  this  young  woman  to  maintain. 

190 


GALVESTON 


Take  them  she  must,  because  they  had  nowhere 
else  to  go.  Finding  her  in  terrible  straits,  without 
even  clothes  to  wear  to  her  sister’s  funeral,  were  we 
not  justified  in  buying  the  heroic  young  woman  a 
decent  suit  of  black,  besides  sending  her  a box  of 
food  supplies?  Why  were  we  there,  if  not  to  ex- 
ercise judgment  in  the  matter  of  relief?  If  merely 
to  distribute  second-hand  articles,  without  discrim- 
ination, we  might  have  saved  ourselves  much  peril 
and  hardship  by  remaining  at  home,  and  sending 
the  boxes  down  to  take  care  of  themselves. 

“ None  of  us  will  ever  forget  the  grandniece 
of  an  ex-President  of  the  United  States — a hand- 
some and  imposing  woman  of  middle  age,  traveled, 
educated,  and  evidently  accustomed  to  the  best 
society.  She  called  one  day  at  headquarters,  and 
although  she  did  not  ask  for  aid,  the  truth  came 
out  in  a heart-to-heart  talk  with  Miss  Barton 
that  she  had  lost  all  in  the  storm  and  had  not  where 
to  lay  her  head,  nor  food  for  the  morrow;  even  the 
clothes  she  wore  were  not  her  own.  Nobody  living 
could  put  this  lady  on  the  pauper  list,  and  none 
with  a spark  of  human  feeling  could  wish  to  wound 
her  pride.  Our  honored  President,  who  reads 
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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


hearts  as  others  do  open  books,  clasped  this  unfor- 
tunate sister’s  hand — and  left  in  it  a bank-note — 
I do  not  know  of  what  denomination,  but  let  us 
hope  it  was  not  a small  one.  The  look  of  surprise 
and  gratitude  that  flashed  over  that  woman’s  face 
was  worth  going  far  to  see,  as,  speechless  with 
emotion,  the  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks,  she 
turned  away. 

“ One  might  go  on  multiplying  incidents  by  the 
hour,  did  time  permit.  There  were  teachers  to  be 
fitted  out  with  suitable  clothes  before  the  opening 
of  the  schools ; boys  and  girls  needing  school-books 
and  shoes,  caps,  and  jackets;  new-born  babes  to  be 
provided,  whose  wardrobes,  prepared  in  advance, 
had  been  swept  away;  mothers  of  families,  desti- 
tute of  the  commonest  conveniences  of  life,  to  whom 
the  gift  of  a pan  or  kettle  was  a godsend ; aged 
people,  whose  declining  years  must  be  comforted; 
invalids  to  be  cheered  with  little  luxuries.  My 
greatest  regret  is  that  we  had  not  hundreds  of  dol- 
lars to  use  for  every  one  that  was  expended  in  these 
directions.” 

My  stenographer,  Miss  Agnes  Coombs,  found 
her  post  by  me,  and  sixty  to  eighty  letters  a day, 
192 


GALVESTON 


taken  from  dictation,  made  up  the  clerical  round 
of  the  office  of  the  president.  This  duty  fell  in  be- 
tween attending  the  daily  meetings  of  the  relief 
committee  and  receiving  constant  calls  both  in  and 
out  of  the  city. 

Our  men  made  up  their  living-room  at  the  ware- 
house. The  few  women  remained  at  the  hotel,  the 
only  suitable  place  in  the  town. 

Later  on  arrived  a shipload  of  supplies  from 
the  business  people  of  New  York,  which  were  stored 
with  the  Galveston  committee,  and  we  were  asked 
to  aid  in  the  distribution  of  these  supplies,  and  to 
a certain  extent  we  did,  but  succeeded  in  organiz- 
ing a committee  of  citizens,  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
to  carry  out  and  complete  this  distribution. 

From  lack  of  knowledge  of  the  real  conditions 
of  the  disaster  and  its  geographical  extent,  this 
munificent  donation  had  been  assigned  to  the  “ Re- 
lief of  Galveston,”  and  thus,  technically,  Galveston 
had  no  authority  to  administer  a pound  or  a dollar 
to  any  communities  or  persons  outside  of  the  pre- 
cincts of  the  city  proper.  This  left  at  least  twenty 
counties  on  the  mainland  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Gulf,  some  of  which  were  as  badly  wrecked  and 
193 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


ruined  as  Galveston  itself,  without  a possibility  of 
the  slightest  benefit  from  this  great,  generous  gift. 

Seeing  this  pitiful  and  innocently  unjust  con- 
dition of  affairs,  the  result  of  ignorance  of  relief 
work,  undertaken  with  much  zeal  but  scant  knowl- 
edge and  no  experience,  we  sought  a way  to  atone 
for  the  mistake,  so  far  as  we  might  be  able. 

Immediately  closing  our  relief  rooms  in  Galves- 
ton I had  all  Red  Cross  supplies  shipped  to  Hous- 
ton, and  relief  for  the  mainland  opened  there. 
These  were  farming  districts,  and  I directed  in- 
telligent inquiry  to  be  made  as  to  what  was  most 
needed  by  the  devastated  farm  lands  and  their 
owners.  All  was  swept  away — sometimes  as  far  as 
forty  miles  back  into  the  level  country;  often  the 
soil  itself  was  washed  away,  the  home  and  all 
smaller  animals  destroyed,  and  no  feed  for  the 
larger  ones  to  subsist  on.  The  poor  farmers 
walked  their  desolated  fields  and  wrung  their 
hands. 

It  proved  that  this  was  the  strawberry  section 
of  Southern  Texas,  and  these  were  the  strawberry 
growers  that  supplied  the  early  berries  to  our 
Northern  market.  For  miles  not  a plant  was  left 
194 


GALVESTON 


and  no  means  to  replant.  This  was  reported  to 
me  on  the  first  day’s  investigation,  and  also  that 
if  plants  could  be  obtained  and  set  within  two 
weeks  a half  crop  could  be  grown  this  year  and  the 
industry  restored.  That  seemed  a better  occupa- 
tion for  these  poor  fellows  than  walking  the 
ground  and  wringing  their  hands.  The  messenger 
was  sent  back  at  daybreak  to  ascertain  how  many 
plants  would  be  needed  to  replant  these  lands,  where 
they  were  accustomed  to  procure  them,  and  what 
varieties  were  best  adapted  to  their  use. 

That  night  brought  again  the  messenger  to 
say  that  a million  and  a half  of  plants  would  reset 
the  lands  and  that  their  supply  came  from  the 
nurseries  in  North  Carolina,  Illinois,  Arkansas, 
and  Louisiana.  Directions  were  sent  back  to  Mr. 
Ward  to  order  the  plants  to  be  there  in  two  weeks. 
This  was  done.  Only  thirty-eight  thousand  plants 
were  injured  in  transit,  and  those  were  generously 
resupplied  by  the  shippers.  Within  the  two  weeks 
this  million  and  a half  of  strawberry  plants  were 
set.  It  was  estimated  that  fully  a third  of  a crop 
was  realized  that  year,  and  it  is  safe  to  predict 
that  one-half  the  readers  of  this  little  sketch  will 
195 


A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


partake  of  the  fruits  of  these  Red  Cross  relief 
strawberry  fields  this  very  springtime. 

Other  needs  to  a large  amount  were  supplied  by 
Mr.  Ward,  and  we  left  no  idle,  wringing  hands  on 
the  mainlands  of  Texas. 

I had  never  left  Galveston.  Some  other  thought- 
ful reader  may  pitifully  ask,  what  became  of  these 
miles  of  wreckage  and  the  dead  on  the  Galveston 
seashore  ? 

At  this  distant  day  it  may  be  safe  to  tell.  I 
recall  that  at  the  time  much  criticism  was  in- 
dulged in. 

All  were  burned. 

The  heat  grew  greater  and  the  stench  stronger 
every  day.  They  tried  to  remove  the  debris 
and  get  the  bodies  out  for  burial.  No  hu- 
man being  could  work  in  that  putrefying  mass. 
Previously  had  come  the  glorious  thought  of  get- 
ting them  into  boats  and  shipping  them  a mile  out 
to  sea.  With  hopeful  hearts  this  experiment  was 
tried  for  one  day.  Alas!  the  night  tide  brought 
them  all  back  to  shore.  The  elements  of  earth  and 
water  had  refused — what  remained  but  fire? 
Openings  in  the  long  continuous  lines  were  cut 
196 


GALVESTON 


through  at  given  spaces,  the  fire  engines  set  to 
play  on  the  open,  and  the  torch  applied  to  the  end 
of  sections;  thus  a general  conflagration  of  the 
city  was  prevented,  and  from  day  to  day  the  pile 
diminished. 

The  stench  of  burning  flesh  permeated  every 
foot  of  the  city.  Who  could  long  withstand  this? 
Before  the  end  of  three  months  there  was  scarcely 
a well  person  in  Galveston.  My  helpers  grew  pale 
and  ill,  and  even  I,  who  have  resisted  the  effect  of 
so  many  climates,  needed  the  help  of  a steadying 
hand  as  I walked  to  the  waiting  Pullman  on  the 
track,  courteously  tendered  free  of  charge  to  take 
us  away. 

This  is  a tedious  story ; but  if  gone  through,  one 
has  a little  insight  into  the  labor  of  a Red  Cross 
field  of  relief.  There  are  twenty  in  my  recollection, 
and  this  was  by  no  means  the  hardest  or  the  most 
useful.  They  have  been  lived,  but  never  told. 

I beg  my  readers  to  bear  in  mind  that  this  is 
not  romance  that  I am  writing,  where  I can  place 
my  characters  in  the  best  light  and  shape  results 
at  will,  but  history,  with  my  personages  still  alive, 
ready  to  attest  the  reality  of  this  statement.  That 
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A STORY  OF  THE  RED  CROSS 


grand  committee  of  Galveston  relief — than  whom 
no  nobler  body  of  men  I have  ever  met — are,  I 
hope,  all  yet  alive  to  testify  to  the  conditions  and 
statements  made. 

I have  dedicated  this  little  volume  to  the  people 
with  whom,  and  for  whom,  have  gone  the  willing 
labors  of  twenty-five  years — initial  labors,  untried 
methods,  and  object  lessons.  Well  or  ill,  they 
have  carried  with  them  the  best  intentions  and  the 
best  judgment  given  for  the  purpose.  Whatever 
may  betide  or  the  future  have  in  store  for  the  little 
work  so  simply  commenced,  so  humbly  carried  on, 
merely  a helper  with  no  thought  of  leadership,  it 
bears  along  with  it  the  memories  of  pain  assuaged, 
hope  revived,  endeavor  strengthened,  and  lives 
saved. 

To  the  noble  sympathies  of  generous  hearts  these 
results  are  due,  and  yet  it  is  not  in  its  past  that 
the  glories  or  the  benefits  of  the  Red  Cross  lie,  but 
in  the  possibilities  it  has  created  for  the  future;  in 
the  lessons  it  has  taught ; in  the  avenues  to  humane 
effort  it  has  opened,  and  in  the  union  of  beneficent 
action  between  people  and  Government,  when  once 
comprehended  and  effected,  that  shall  constitute  a 
198 


GALVESTON 


bulwark  against  the  mighty  woes  sure  to  come 
sooner  or  later  to  all  peoples  and  all  nations. 

To  you — the  people  of  America — this  sacred 
trust  is  committed,  in  your  hands  the  charge  is 
laid.  To  none  will  your  help  ever  be  so  precious 
as  it  has  been  to  me,  for  in  its  proud  growth  and 
strength  none  will  ever  so  need  you. 


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199 


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